


When Hell Frees us

by seizethejongdae



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angst, Blasphemy probably, Death, Existential Dread, Explicit Language, Hell, M/M, Torture, Violence, disturbing imagery, mentions of a decapitated demon but it's casual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 112,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seizethejongdae/pseuds/seizethejongdae
Summary: Jongdae spends his time in hell counting down the seconds until he's free from the iron collar sealed around his neck. When Luhan, ruler of hell, offers him the chance to be free, he takes it. He knew it involved stealing a cage from Lucifer, but he didn't know it'd involve a glimmering, golden angel who shone brighter than anything he had ever seen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: #220  
> Pairing: Jongdae/Sehun  
> Monsters: Angels and demons  
> Rating: M  
> Warnings: explicit language, violence, death, disturbing imagery, torture, mentions of a decapitated demon but it's casual, blasphemy probably, existential dread  
> Word Count: ~112k  
> Author's Note: Thank you to the prompter for an amazing prompt, to the mods for their hard work, and to M who makes a second apart feel like a year and a year together feel like a second.

“Where is purgatory?” a voice asked, “I’ll just go there, right?”

Oh, these humans. 

They were all the same.

Always denying, always desperate, always disbelieving.

Always. Dead.

“You can’t go to purgatory,” Luhan said, tapping a finger on the arm of his iron throne. He didn’t like to call it a throne, but there was no use in calling it just a chair. The armrests were studded with dark rubies, small flames danced around his legs, and swirling patterns were carved into the ancient metal. If anyone other than Luhan tried to sit here, they’d be burned. Not that Luhan would mind.

A few meters away from Luhan’s chair, the dead soul still stood, rubbing their pale hands together as if they were trying to stay warm, as if they were trying to convince themselves that this was not where they thought they were.

“Yes I can,” the soul insisted. “Anywhere but here…I can’t be here. Hell? No…I didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jongdae let out a loud sigh, crossing his arms together and shifting his weight restlessly as he stood beside Luhan. The line of souls to judge was much too long and stretched far out of this throne room, farther than what anyone could see. He hated judgment time because there was nothing to do for hours and hours and hours except stand next to Luhan to make sure no dead soul lunged at him. But he knew Luhan hated it more.

“You can’t go to purgatory,” Luhan yawned as he spread out his black, feathered wings for a quick stretch. All Lus had the same dark wings, and all Lus ruled hell, one time or another. This was Luhan’s time. “You’ve done too many things to have the privilege of going there, so accept your fate. I’m just deciding which part of hell to send you to, but it’s not. Purgatory.” 

When they were younger, Luhan had always whispered to Jongdae that he was afraid of saying the same things over and over and over when it was his time to ascend the throne and judge. _You’ve been bad. You deserve hell. Please await further punishment._ But never did they anticipate so many people asking about purgatory. Was heaven too far of a stretch? A dream many knew they had no chance of reaching?

“I mean it,” Luhan repeated, watching the soul freeze up, their translucent jaw dropping open, their bony hands clasping their cheeks.

This was when the dead usually fell to their knees to beg for mercy, and this soul was no different. Jongdae had seen it all. He had seen the desperation, the last pleas for something, _anything_ better than hell, but what was the use? Shouldn’t they be grateful they could exist somewhere after death anyways? So, like most times, he ignored the screams and stared out into the room instead. There were no doors to shut out the rest of the dead who were waiting outside of Luhan’s castle, just a gaping hole in the middle of this home. It didn’t matter because there wasn’t anything much to look at outside anyways.

Hell was dark. What else could it be, really. If anyone were to stand far out into the deeper parts of hell and keep their eyes on the horizon, they’d see a sky of fire, the only source of light because there were no suns in hell. But perhaps every great ruler needed to hang stars in the skies, mold planets with their hands because Luhan had at least granted everyone a glowing red moon that reflected the torment, the anguish, the fire that it witnessed below. Luhan insisted it was for aesthetic purposes of course, but Jongdae was just glad it kept the overwhelming darkness from consuming everything.

“The fields,” Luhan finally announced, playing with the studded piercings on one of his earlobes. Jongdae himself preferred to wear little black hoops. 

Luhan then snapped his fingers and two other demons swooped in, dragging the dead soul off to the fields. It wasn’t the worst place to exist. The fields were only just the vast, infinite land that stretched out for who knew how long. The dead who were sent there didn’t suffer the pains of physical torment but only wallowed in loneliness and drowned in the perpetual darkness.

“Next,” Luhan called out, beckoning the next dead soul to come closer.

The next soul stood, wringing his hands, unwilling or unable to speak. Jongdae glanced at the human’s tattooed skin and scars that ran down the sides of his face.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Luhan exasperatedly said after taking one glance at the human. It only took one look after all. One look, and Luhan could know what sins anyone had committed. “I swear, the guys up there really don’t know how to do their job. They should’ve sent you to purgatory.”

“Purgatory?” the soul finally rasped.

“Yeah, yeah,” Luhan said, gesturing at some demons around to escort the soul away “I’d say good luck, but honestly you could just as easily come back to hell after doing your time there. Heaven’s not a guarantee. Clearly.”

No one knew how to get to purgatory. It seemed like a place neither those from hell nor heaven could reach, but everyone still swore there was a purgatory, somewhere to exist in between while time passed. So when Luhan met souls that had been improperly sorted, he sent them back to the line, dooming them to years and years spent walking backwards in the hopes that they’d find purgatory at the end of the line before the end of days.

The next soul was a small old woman with wispy white curls and large glasses that magnified her eyes.

“I don’t belong here,” she said before Luhan could speak.

“You,” Luhan said, his lips beginning to curl, “You know what you’ve done, and you know where you belong.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” she shook her head quickly, “I have never done anything terrible in my life.”

“Oh, come on,” Luhan laughed, “I can’t believe you walked in here like this just _thinking_ no one would know. You’re here for a reason.”

“You’ve made a mistake,” she said, raising her voice and squeezing her hands into fists.

“We’re all terrible down here, but how could you?” Luhan shook his head slowly, “That’s cruel, even for us. They trusted you, and yet, you did that to them? Oh, there’s only one place you belong.”

He snapped his fingers, and two other demons came forth, slinking out of the shadows, waiting for Luhan to tell them where to drag her.

“Torture,” he said clearly. It took two seconds for the demons to exchange looks and sigh. Torture was a separate division that decided what type of physical punishment souls deserved. Only the worst of the worst were sent to punishment, and no demon liked to visit, even if it was only to escort souls there. Not even Luhan wanted to be concerned with that part of hell. Some of the previous Lus that ruled before Luhan juggled their time between this line and punishment, but Luhan had never stepped into the fields of punishment since he had ascended the throne. He had no reason to anyways, as a demon who had wronged him was in charge of torture as part of his own punishment.

After that, Jongdae stopped paying so much attention and let the time and souls blur. He couldn’t remember the countless faces that passed through the room or how many souls Luhan had sent off. But he always noticed that Luhan never rushed, never hastily made his decision even though the hardest part was over and decided for him. Luhan never had to determine if anyone was good or bad. Heaven or hell. All he had to do was judge who was bad, worse, worst, and which part of hell they all deserved.

The strange look in Luhan’s gaze that appeared every time he sat in his throne and judged made Jongdae believe it really never was any easier. Some demons would dismiss the look as flickering fire, malice waiting to bleed out of his words. Other demons would laugh and say it was pleasure, the simple joy of being able to decide how souls would be punished. But Jongdae, who had been with Luhan since his beginning, knew otherwise.

And so he asked.

“Luhan, you’ve done this for hours. Do you need a break?” Jongdae asked as he leaned down to speak.

“How do you know it’s been hours?” Luhan said without looking at him, “It could’ve been days. Years.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Jongdae said, “Take a break at least.”

Luhan slouched forwards, propping up an elbow on his throne before resting his cheek in his hand. He blankly stared forwards, and with his other hand, pointed at the amount of souls waiting for judgment. He soon stopped and dropped his hand into his lap. Counting was useless.

“It’s been long enough today, right?” Luhan softly asked, whether to himself or Jongdae, that was unclear, “Enough of the dead have been sorted. Right?”

“Yes. So let’s go,” Jongdae said, placing a hand on Luhan’s shoulder.

“Fine,” Luhan said, though he shook off Jongdae’s hand as he stood.

“What! You can’t leave now! What about us? What about me?” one of the souls in line cried out.

“You’re dead,” Luhan laughed, “It won’t kill you to wait.”

He exited the room without a further look back.

As Luhan entered the twisting halls that led into the deeper parts of the castle, Jongdae matched his pace and walked side by side with him. Here the fire that lit up the hallways was just for decoration, lapping at the bottom of the walls while paintings hung above.

“It’s too fucking dim here,” Luhan said, swiping at the flames as if that would make them burn brighter.

“Then you should have added more fire. More light,” Jongdae said. Luhan stopped in his tracks and looked at Jongdae with an odd look before jabbing at Jongdae’s chest.

“How’s that treating you today,” Luhan said, his eyes on Jongdae’s neck. This was the closest Luhan would ever get to a simple _are you doing okay_ in the last five hundred years.

Jongdae’s fingers flew to his collar, the iron manacle fastened and sealed around his throat. It was not tight enough to make him feel as if he was choking, but it was not loose enough to be even slightly comfortable.

“What do you think,” Jongdae said, dropping his hand away.

Luhan stared at the collar for a moment longer before his gaze flicked up to meet Jongdae’s.

“I suspect the next time will be in a few days. Don’t say I didn’t give you a warning,” Luhan said.

Jongdae didn’t need the warning. He always knew how many days were left until he could finally rip it off of his neck, but he didn’t like knowing when would be the next time it would make him suffer. It was better to count the days until he’d be freed, not until he’d be in pain.

The mention of Jongdae’s collar and the promise of what was to come dampened the atmosphere, causing silence to fall as they continued to walk, both lost in their thoughts. They passed by the countless parlors, armories, rooms that they didn’t even bother looking at or visiting anymore.

Soon enough, they reached the dining hall, and the demon waiting outside nodded in greeting to Luhan before twisting the doorknobs made of fire and pushing open the tall, dark doors.

Inside the dining hall, lower ranked demons bustled by, immediately refilling plates once they were emptied. Higher ranked demons had the time and luxury of relaxing, dancing together in the center of the room. One held another demon’s hands with one hand and a goblet of deep merlot wine in another. Some concealed their faces with jeweled masks, others with dark veils that looked as if it had been spun by spiders. All their red eyes still shone through the slits of the masks and the wispy fabric of the veils as if the moon above had been stolen and shattered into tiny pieces that the demons placed in their eyes. From here, every demon’s shadowy aura constantly fought and threatened to smother what little light the silver chandeliers above and the little floating candles around the tables gave.

The demons seemed lost in the wine, lost in the music, but as soon as they took notice of Luhan, they stopped. The dancers froze, the musicians paused, and silence fell, all of them waiting for Luhan, the Lu of this time, the ruler of this hell.

“Come now,” Luhan raised his voice, spreading his arms out as he continued walking, “Don’t mind me. Proceed. Continue talking of mutiny, of conspiracies against me.”

He gestured into the crowd, smiling brightly as he talked. Instantly, the demons unfroze and resumed what they had been doing, and the music began playing again. But there had been no talk of such matters. No treason, only entreaties for Luhan to come join some of them and dance. No dark whispers, but only laughter. No conspiracies, but only clinks of wine glasses.

“Conspire against you? We’re demons, but we’re not disloyal,” a demon laughed as she whirled by in some other demon’s arms.

“If you want conspiracy, ask Jongdae,” a waiter off-handedly said as he walked past them. Jongdae resisted the urge to put the demon’s head on the silver platter that he so nonchalantly twirled in his hands.

Luhan sighed and shook his head, pushing past the demons pulling at his arms, inviting him to dance and headed straight for the very front of the dining hall for his usual table.

“How are my favorite demons doing?” Luhan asked as he approached a group of three demons already seated. All were dressed in sparkling red silk dresses, wearing various gems around their necks, and holding sparkling crystal goblets full of wine.

“I don’t know,” a waiter said as he placed an extra bottle of wine on the table, “Jongdae’s right there. Why don’t you ask him? The traitor?”

Before Luhan could speak, one of the demons downed the rest of her wine before slamming her glass onto the table, shattering it instantly.

“Don’t be rude,” she said, quickly stabbing the waiter with the sharpened end of the glass stem. The waiter let out a scream, clutching at his stomach.

“Should I twist it in deeper?” she asked, brushing the rest of the glass off the table.

“Leave it, Sunmi,” Jongdae smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder as he took a seat beside her, “He’s not worth it.”

Sunmi looked at Jongdae, and with a smile, lifted up his chin with a hand and cooed at how handsome he looked.

“Besides,” Luhan said, gesturing for the waiter to leave with a snap of his fingers. “Everyone already knows I wouldn’t have a traitor as a favorite.”

Luhan spoke in such a tone that automatically caused Jongdae to turn away. He watched the waiter stumble away, leaving a trail of blood behind before he looked the other way. Anywhere but Luhan.

“Is that a new trick you’re learning?” Jongdae asked Yeri, a demon seated in front of him. She held a group of cards and stared intently at them.

“Yes,” Yeri said as she pulled out one card and placed it down on the table, “One of those human souls taught me how to make a card disappear, but instead of making it reappear in someone’s ear, I’m adapting it so it will reappear in someone’s organs.”

“Fun. Just don’t try it out on me first,” Jongdae smiled. He waited to see if she’d return the smile, but after a few seconds of nothing, only a ducked head and a blank stare, he sighed. He turned to pick up a goblet of wine from the nearest waiter and turned back to the conversation around them.

“Oh, you were just there Joy,” Luhan loudly said, “Why return to your dead souls again? Just stay here with us. What have the dead ever done for us except give us more work? We don’t owe them anything, and you don’t owe them any extra visits.”

Joy, another demon, threw her head back and laughed, making the shadows around her shake and exposing the diamonds that rested around her neck.

“They need me, Luhan,” she said, placing a hand on Luhan’s arm. Her little spider tattoos crawled up her arm and danced around the skin of her fingers. “Who else do they have except us? Hell is lonely if you’re dead.”

“Hell is boring if you’re us,” Yeri said, grabbing a nearby demon. Within moments, she convinced him to be a part of her magic trick. Within seconds, she pulled out her card from the demon’s stomach and wiped off the blood using a dinner napkin.

“Hell is fine since we have each other’s company,” Sunmi said, unbothered by the blood.

“That’s sweet,” Luhan said, ignoring the screams behind him.

As the night passed on, waiters constantly placed silver platters in front of them, removing the shining lids to reveal roast beef, rich soups, delicate desserts. One time, a waiter, biting back a laugh, lifted off the cover to reveal a whole head. Luhan threw him a look and jabbed at him with a finger.

“I can’t eat that,” Luhan said, “We demons may be many things, but we’re not fucking cannibals.”

“That’s mine! Give it back!” a headless demon said, clumsily pushing past dancers before grabbing his missing head and storming away.

“I need new waiters,” Luhan grumbled before pushing his plate away, “Enough. I’m done eating. Just grab me a new bottle of wine.”

With that, he sat back in his seat and lounged about, sipping his wine and staring out into the crowd. Every night was like this. Every night lavish parties were held in this hall where demons could chatter about while drinking wine or gambling in the back of the room. Every vice and misdeed were excused here. Demons did what they want, but they knew better than to make too much trouble in front of Luhan.  

Around the room, Jongdae watched a demon practice throwing knives at a target board. Another demon rushed past him and begged him to borrow his knives. Before the first demon could respond, he had snatched the knives out of his hands.

“Darling! Try with me!” he called out to another demon who giggled as she stood in front of the target. With one hand, she tipsily held a goblet of wine, spilling out a few drops onto the floor. With the other, she pressed against the target to steady herself.

“Go ahead!” she called out, slurring her words.

“One!” He said, throwing the knife at the board while the other demon tried to stop him.

“One!” she echoed, not even flinching as it impaled itself right next to her head.

“Stop that,” the other demon chided, “You might hurt her.”

“Two!” the other demon said anyways, throwing the second knife. It lodged itself on the corner of the board.

“Throw the third one! Throw the third one!” the demon who stood in front of the target said.

“Three!” the demon said.

“Give me my knives back,” the demon said, pushing the other demon. But the movement had caused the demon to lose his balance, sending the knife sailing across at a different angle.

“Oops!” he said as he gazed at the board, finding a severed hand on the floor.

“Oops!” the other demon giggled as she picked up her hand, the blood dripping onto her dress that was embroidered with spun gold, “You can try again when it reattaches itself to my arm.”

“Fuck,” the other demon muttered as he shoved the two demons aside and picked up his knives, “You don’t even know how to do it properly.”

He then juggled his knives in the air before throwing them one by one at the board, all of them landing at the very center.

“Try me,” Jongdae said, standing up and walking towards the commotion as a new idea snuck into his mind, “Show them how it’s done. See if your knives can cut this collar off.”

“Ah, Jongdae…” the demon said, twirling his knives in the air, “I haven’t warmed up properly. What if I accidentally decapitate you?”

“I’ve had worse pains,” Jongdae shrugged. He didn’t need to specify, but the demon understood from the time he spent staring at the collar.

“What if Luhan decapitates me for it?” the demon said, tossing a knife between his hands.

“I’ve had worse things to clean up,” Jongdae said, already moving towards the target and pressing his back to it. He would do anything, risk anything, try anything to free himself from this collar. A knife thrown straight at it seemed unlikely to be able to cut it off, but Jongdae still had hope. He had to.

“Go on,” Luhan said from his seat, his eyes glinting strangely, “I won’t take your head if you take his.”

The demon shrugged and began tossing his knives around. He quickly threw one at Jongdae, and it impaled itself right next to the right side of his head. Jongdae blinked. The demon tossed another knife in the air before catching it and throwing it once again. This knife hit the board slightly to the left of Jongdae’s neck with a loud thud. Jongdae wasn’t sure if his ears had been nicked by the knife or if he was just buzzing in anticipation.

Again and again and again, the demon threw knives at Jongdae who stared and stared, not even flinching as they stabbed into the wood around his body. And finally, down to his last knife, the demon tossed it in the air and caught it before closing one eye and stretched out his hand to aim.

Musicians suddenly stopped playing, curious to see what would happen. All eyes were on Jongdae, but he only had eyes for that knife. Why didn’t he think of this sooner? Perhaps today would be the day he’d finally be free.

“Ready?” the demon asked.

“Do it,” Jongdae almost shouted.

“One,” the demon said.

Some demons seated around the room had stood up to catch a better glimpse.

“Two,” the demon said, drawing back his hand, preparing to throw.

Luhan placed down his goblet and leaned out of his chair as he stared. Joy watched between her fingers while Sunmi covered up her eyes with her hands. Yeri didn’t even bother to look, keeping her gaze on her cards.

“ _Three_ ,” the demon said before throwing the knife.

Sure enough, it struck Jongdae’s neck, causing him to let out a gasp at the sudden impact. But the knife shattered instantly, the shards clanging around Jongdae’s feet. The sound echoed throughout the room for a moment until the crowd let out a collective groan and turned back to their wine, the musicians turned back to their music, and Luhan turned his back on Jongdae again.

“Better luck next time, Jongdae. I’m sure there’s a way out,” the demon said as he summoned back the broken shards and reformed them in his hand.

Jongdae didn’t care. His fingers instantly reached for his throat, his shoulders almost slumping when he still felt the cold iron around his neck. Slowly, he traced the unmoving shape of the collar and lowered his gaze to the floor as he failed to even feel a single scratch or dent.

“Come back here, Jongdae,” Yeri called, waving her deck of cards in the air. A few cards fell out of her hand and one burst into flames as it hit the table.

Jongdae complied and returned to his seat, snatching up his wine glass and taking a long drink. Around him, a headless demon juggled his head with a few crystal goblets and silver daggers. Another demon dropped her severed hand into someone’s plate and laughed at the shrieks. Luhan finished his glass of wine. Existence resumed.

“Jongdae, if _I_ was Luhan, I would’ve freed you ages ago,” Sunmi said, attempting to console him with a hand on his arm. Jongdae simply nodded and hid himself behind the bottom of a wine glass, his face distorted through the glass.

“Too bad you’re not a Lu,” Luhan shook his head, gesturing at the waiter to fill his cup with more wine.

“Too bad you’re a Lu,” Joy said to Luhan with a shake of her head, “It’s really all gone to your head, you know.”

If any other demon had dared to speak like Joy spoke, they would’ve lost a hand or a head by now. But Joy was Joy, and was there anyone who could truly be angered by the sweet tone of her voice and her beautiful smile?

“Careful,” Luhan said, “I could send you to the torture division anytime I want.”

A different waiter was about to replace the bottles of wine, but Jongdae sent him away. That was enough wine for Luhan.

“But you won’t,” Joy said, “Then who would entertain you?”

“You’re right,” Luhan sighed, “I’m stuck with all of this…for eternity.”

“Too bad there aren’t any Lus left in your family to take over,” Jongdae said, watching Luhan’s expression as he chose his words carefully.

Luhan slouched in his chair and erupted in laughter. He banged his goblet on the table, hitting it harder and harder and faster and faster. The rhythm of his banging accelerated, and there was a cruel, twisted expression contorting his countenance even though he laughed.

“I fucking _hate_ —” Luhan said between his laughter, slamming the wine glass so hard onto the table until it finally shattered into little pieces.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

“Where is purgatory? This can’t be it,” a voice said.

Another day, another soul to judge.

“For the last time,” Luhan said, rubbing his face with a hand. His hair was disheveled, and a deep scowl weighed down his expression, “This is hell. You’re in hell.”

The dead looked around, took in perhaps for the tenth time the ruler of hell himself with his dark wings surrounded by other demons and their flickering shadows, their glowing, red eyes, and let out a scream.

“I liked it better when they’d just complain about being dead,” Luhan sighed.

“Just judge them quickly,” Jongdae said, “Don’t let the line get too long.”

His words triggered something in Luhan, and he immediately shot forwards, leaning on the edge of his seat as he wildly gestured in front of him.

“It’s _always_ long,” Luhan snarled, “What’s so bad about hell anyways?”

The flames around the room burned brighter and began climbing up the walls as Luhan’s scowl deepened.

“It’s _hell_ ,” the dead cried out, dropping to their knees as they pulled out their hair and their clothes, “Who wants to be here? In life, we work hard, and we’re kind so we won’t be _here_ when we die.”

“Then it’s your _fault_ ,” Luhan loudly said, pounding his hands on his chair, “Your fault that you’re here, your fault that I have to sit and greet you, your fault that I have to be. _Here_.”

The flames shot out and upwards one last time, blinding the whole room before they sizzled out, plunging the room into darkness. Jongdae didn’t want to look around and face the red eyes of the other demons, so he just folded his arms and stared out into the gaping abyss in front of them. Not that it looked any different than the darkness inside the room. Jongdae heard murmuring from other demons, heard the wails of the dead, but focused on one sound. Luhan’s sigh.

“I’m taking a break,” Luhan announced at last, snapping his fingers to light a single flame in front of him. The fury had melted from his expression, and he pressed his lips together. “Just a week. Do what you want when I’m gone.”

The red lights blinked in acknowledgement.

This wasn’t the first time that Luhan wanted a break, and it wouldn’t be the last. Jongdae was used to this, so he grabbed the single burning flame before Luhan could extinguish it and led the way out of the darkness.

Jongdae placed the flame on the wall once they entered a dimly lit hallway and passed by portraits of previous Lus. They all posed haughtily with their chins up, shoulders back, and their acrylic eyes followed them as they walked onwards. One Lu posed while holding the severed head of some dark creature with fangs that dripped black poison. Another Lu posed next to a demonic deer, the official animal of the Lus. Luhan, however, preferred to keep his portrait hidden and away from view. He had covered it with a dusty, red velvet curtain around the same time the iron collar was forced around Jongdae’s neck.

“I can design this place any way I want, but I still can’t get rid of these portraits,” Luhan said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“They’re your family,” Jongdae said, “They’re always with y—”

“They’re not,” Luhan snapped, “We share the same name, but I don’t care about any single one of them. And it’s not like they’re dead. They just have the good fortune of retiring from this position.”

Speaking about such topics when Luhan was like this would not work, so Jongdae changed the subject.

“What will you do this break?” Jongdae asked.

“Oh, you know,” Luhan said, his shoulders relaxing, the spite leaving his countenance as quickly as it had arrived, “The usual. I’ll just be in my room for now sitting around. Drinking. Why don’t you monitor the outside? I’d hate to wake up to this place half burnt down if a fight started.”

He spoke in such a cheerful tone that Jongdae was sure he wouldn’t have minded anyways.

“It’s a shame your break isn’t permanent. Too bad nothing can be done,” Jongdae chose his words carefully, not bothering to see how Luhan looked as he walked away. He still felt Luhan’s gaze on him.

Jongdae walked throughout the castle, making sure that no one started any fights with each other, no one who shouldn’t have been playing with fire was kept far away from the torches and the flames, and no one challenged anyone to a duel to the death. Everyone was tame tonight, and after nothing to do, Jongdae looked for Yeri.

Yeri was firebound to him, and greeting her when she first woke up from the flames, blinking ash out of her eyes as she gazed up at him was a memory Jongdae could never forget no matter how long he lived, no matter how much time passed. Eternity was long, but those tiny moments felt so near if Jongdae remembered hard enough.

“Yeri,” he called out when he found her sitting in an empty parlor room fumbling with some chains, “There you are. Can I sit?”

He waited for Yeri to answer him, and for a moment, he felt his heart freeze as she only kept her eyes focused on the chain. But he breathed again when she nodded a single time and scooted over. They didn’t spend as much time together as they used to in the past, and Jongdae blamed himself and what he had done for that. If he were her, he wouldn’t want to be seen with anyone labeled as a traitor either.

“What are you doing?” Jongdae asked, glancing at Yeri. She sat, examining chains, holding them up to the light. But she didn’t answer him, focused on her work, focused on anything but him.

Eternity was long, but those past times when everything was simpler felt so far away. Jongdae wished he could go back. Memory of those better times wasn’t enough.

Jongdae sat with her in silence, sinking into the couch as he watched her tinker with the chains. At least she didn’t push him away.

“There’s always a way out of things,” Yeri said. This time she turned and looked directly at Jongdae, causing him to sit up straight to give her his full attention. “If you want it badly enough, then it doesn’t matter if you use sleight of hand, of mind, or of some forces beyond what anyone will know. There’s always a way out.”

Jongdae’s heart softened, and he reached over to tousle her hair. In the past, she had giggled and batted his hands away, but these days, she let him without even the slightest protest, the slightest reaction.

“Want to show me how to escape from these iron chains without a key?” he said, gesturing at the manacles, “Or is that going to give away your magician’s secret?”

“Of course,” Yeri said. Jongdae wanted to believe that the slightly turned up corners of her lips was a smile. He had to believe. “I learned this a couple hundred years ago from some teenaged magician who died after he attempted to escape from a coffin after being buried alive but just. Suffocated to death.”

“Tragic,” Jongdae off-handedly said as Yeri fastened manacles to his wrists. These chains were fine. These he knew he could escape from. These he knew would not pain him. “Does he still look blue?”

“A little bit, yeah,” Yeri said, “But you wouldn’t really notice unless he stepped in front of a flame because it’s so dark out there. He’s in the fields.”

“So he’s lucky,” Jongdae said, rattling his chains to test their strength. He could easily rip these off of his wrists any time he wanted. “There are worse places to be sent.”

“Yeah. He’s an interesting kid,” Yeri said, “he said the next time I visit, he’ll show me a new trick. This one involves berries and a pig.”

“Where did he find a pig in the fields?” Jongdae asked.

“Anyways,” Yeri said, “How to escape from these without a key, and how to make it look impressive and effortless. Let’s begin.”

For the next few hours as Jongdae watched Yeri smile and laugh with him, he really felt like nothing had changed, like they were younger and back to how things used to be, like the war didn’t happen, like there was nothing to pain him, like there was no collar around his n—

“You’re spending time with the traitor again?” a demon said as he poked his head inside the room, “If you’re playing with chains, then it’s too bad you can’t get him out of that collar, huh.”

With that, the smile on Yeri’s face disappeared. The last ghost of her laugh rang in Jongdae’s memory, and just like that, he was already aching to go back, to go back to those moments. There was time, always pressing onwards, regardless of whether Jongdae was ready to continue existing. Or not.

“You know he’ll be free, right? One day,” Yeri called back in a soft voice. She didn’t look at Jongdae, dropping her hands to her lap, balling them into tight fists.

“Yeah,” the demon scoffed, “When hell freezes.”

The demon snuck away with a laugh, but the damage was done. With a sigh, Jongdae slid out of the chains just like Yeri had taught him and handed them back to her.

“I’m going back to the fields,” Yeri said as she stood up, “I have work to do.”

“Stay safe,” Jongdae called out, but she was long gone.

He stood, watching the floating candles drift around the empty space for a moment longer before getting up. He wandered the hallways with his hands crossed around his chest, snarling at anyone who so much even thought to aim a weapon at another demon, snapped at anyone who looked at him, and thought all in all that his duties must surely be done since it was dinner and no one had even dared to raise their voice while Jongdae was here.

After unsuccessfully searching for Joy and Sunmi, Jongdae headed back to Luhan’s room to check on him. He didn’t need to knock, so he just pushed the door open and walked inside. Luhan would know who it was from how he entered.

“Jongdae, I’m bored,” Luhan immediately said after he heard the door close. He was reclining in an armchair, holding a glass of wine in one hand, one leg crossed over his other leg. The deep red velvet robe he wore was obnoxiously open at the chest.

“Is that all you’ve been doing today? How much did you drink?” Jongdae said, picking up the bottle around him. Bottles around him.

“I was thirsty,” Luhan said before downing the rest of the glass, “It’s basically like water anyways.”

“It’s dinner,” Jongdae said.

“So pour me another glass,” Luhan said, raising it out towards Jongdae.

Jongdae took the glass, poured some wine into it, and sat down to drank it instead.

“You’re no fun, Jongdae,” Luhan said with a sniff.

“You’re the one that’s been spending a whole day of rest sitting and drinking,” Jongdae said.

Luhan snatched the bottle off of the table, popped off the cork, and Jongdae stretched out his other hand with a sigh. 

"Give it to me," Jongdae said. 

Luhan stared at him for a second before he pointed away towards the door. 

"Oh my  _god_ it's Lucifer!" he shouted. Jongdae snapped his neck to quickly take a look, but there was no one. 

" _Luhan,_ " Jongdae groaned as he looked back to see Luhan chugging the bottle, "Can't you do something else for once?"

“Fine,” Luhan said, slamming the bottle on the table and getting to his feet, “Let’s fight.”

“Now?” Jongdae said, taking another sip of the wine.

Luhan’s burned through moods as quickly as he burned through wine bottles, and Jongdae knew enough by now to not challenge anything and just support whatever Luhan wanted to do. Drink when Luhan wanted to drink. Laugh when Luhan wanted to laugh. Fight when Luhan wanted to fight.

“You were the one that implied I needed to do more,” Luhan said, already pulling out two swords that rested on his mantel above the fireplace. He examined them for a second before tossing one in Jongdae’s direction. Jongdae deftly caught it with his free hand and placed the half-full wine glass on the table beside them before getting into position.

“Winner gets another glass of wine,” Luhan said, raising his sword.

Jongdae chuckled and mirrored the action. If he tried his best, he could pretend like this was how things were meant to be all the time. Always.

Luhan liked to spar with real swords, so sometimes they ended up with cuts and scrapes. But there was no need for armor, as it wasn’t like they’d kill each other. They already had many chances to do so, and yet here they still were. Luhan killed Jongdae every week anyways, but it wasn’t with a sword.  

“Fight to win,” Luhan always said before lunging forth.

Jongdae met Luhan’s attack with a parry, stepping aside just in time as Luhan sliced the air where Jongdae just was. Fighting was a way to silently communicate, to rid their frustration, their anger with metal rather than words. It was during these times that Jongdae really thought that he was understood, that the past was explained for him in ways he never tried to say out loud.

After training with Luhan since the beginning, Jongdae was evenly matched with him. But Luhan liked wine more than playing fair, so after tripping Jongdae with a foot, Jongdae found himself sprawling on the floor, a metallic clang sounding as his sword fell with him.

“A well-deserved drink,” Luhan said, panting as he crawled towards the table and victoriously picked up the half-empty wine glass.

“That’s what you say about all your drinks,” Jongdae said, getting to his knees before elbowing him.

“Watch it,” Luhan said, holding his wine glass upwards, “Don’t make me spill this onto the floor.”

 Jongdae waited until Luhan set the glass down on the table before he tackled him with a laugh. Down they both went, rolling around as they wrestled. Up Jongdae’s spirits soared, making his lips spread out into a wild grin. This time he won, pinning Luhan’s hand behind his back until Luhan swore he’d have Jongdae thrown into the abyss outside if he didn’t let him go. Jongdae complied, and the two of them soon lay down shoulder to shoulder on the floor by the fireplace, panting from the exertion.

“Why do you fight?” Luhan asked Jongdae, keeping his eyes up at the ceiling as he rested.

“I fight for my own sake,” Jongdae said, “And you’re right. Who likes to lose? Who likes to be beaten? We gain more when we win.”

He suffered more because he lost.

Luhan turned and looked at him. Jongdae waited, braced himself for a scowl, an indifferent look, a scoff, or anything at all.

“What a horrible answer,” Luhan smiled instead. And Jongdae breathed.

“What did you expect from us?” Jongdae said, “We’re demons.”

“Selfish to the end,” Luhan laughed.

Jongdae smiled and touched the cold iron of his collar. It did not bother him much tonight. As the hours passed onwards, there was more laughter, more drinking, more hatred. But no regrets, at least for Jongdae. He was glad Luhan allowed some nights like this, where the bright past felt alive in this damned, doomed present.

But Luhan was restless, and after resting in his room, he wanted to sneak out onto the balconies of the upper floors and see what the rest of the demons were doing.

“Nothing happens this soon,” Jongdae said, “Give it time. It’s night after all. Who creates chaos at this hour?”

Luhan was stubborn and left anyways, not even bothering to change out of his robe. But when he crept outside, he saw nothing. Nothing happened. Everyone existed like usual. The few demons that were awake at this hour of the night reclined in velvet armchairs and chatted with each other. Some noticed Luhan and waved. No one did what Luhan wanted them to do.

Luhan turned away with a shake of his head and continued watching a while longer with folded arms until he trudged back, keeping his wings proudly spread out but his shoulders slumped. Later, in the early morning hours past midnight, Luhan finally ate his dinner with no one but Jongdae for company.

Afterwards, even though they weren’t babies anymore, Jongdae made sure Luhan was comfortable as he climbed into bed. Jongdae thought Luhan looked younger like this, staring up at the ceiling and clutching the edges of his blanket before finally closing his eyes. He wanted to ask Luhan what he was thinking, but he didn’t want lies, so he left. There were no _good night_ ’s exchanged, not even any whispered spite. Just silence, an emptiness that wasn’t quite right.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

The next morning, Jongdae woke up with a gasp, a choke, and he clawed at his collar before realizing it wasn’t paining him, no. Not yet. It must’ve been a dream that strangled him. A nightmare.

It was early, so Jongdae lay in bed for a little while longer before bathing and heading outside for breakfast. As he wandered through the castle, finally, he bumped into Joy. She wore a thick coat and walked alone, her high heels clicking down the hall. She noticed nothing, acknowledged no one, and only looked into her mirror, dabbing at the skin under her eyes with a small brush.

“You’re not joining everyone for breakfast in the hall today?” he asked her after she finally noticed him and greeted him with a smile. She dabbed once at the skin under her eyelids again. Dark circles were smudged underneath it, like the makeup had dripped off her face. Jongdae stared for a bit, and Joy, as if noticing the silence, continued to speak.

“No, but you won’t miss me,” Joy said, “Since Luhan’s on break, I doubt you’ll show up there. Right?”

“Unless he wants to be alone,” Jongdae said. He paused and must’ve stared too long at Joy’s makeup because she had snapped her mirror shut and put away her brush.

“This is a new look,” Joy said, putting a hand below her chin and angling her face at Jongdae, “Do you like it? Think it’ll give my dead a fright?”

Jongdae smiled and didn’t bother to correct her that this wasn’t the first time he’d seen this look. After all, nothing was new in eternity.

“You look lovely no matter what look you’re trying,” Jongdae said with a nod, “The dead won’t be scared at all when you visit.”

Joy took a deep breath, eyes darting across Jongdae’s expression, and the corners of her mouth wavered for a bit before they spread into her typical brilliant, beautiful smile.

“Give Luhan my best,” Joy said, “I’ll be gone. Expect me back before he finishes his break.”

“You’re visiting again? You’re leaving again?” Jongdae said. Hadn't Joy just come back from the fields? “They’re lucky to have you.”

“They’re clingy,” Joy said, waving Jongdae off, “they weep when I’m there, they weep when I’m gone. Or so they say. I’m just doing my duties. We can’t all dine and drink wine all day like some of the others here.”

“Still,” Jongdae said, “They’re lucky.”

Joy must’ve caught something in Jongdae’s expression that he was not aware he’d revealed and placed her hand on his arm. A stray tattooed spider peeked out of the cuffs of her coat and crawled down to her index finger.

“I’ll say hello to your dead for you,” she said, “It was cruel of them to ban you from your duties. Those dead people don’t have a demon to guide them anymore.”

“Oh, well,” Jongdae shrugged, ignoring the sudden pang in his heart, “I did what I did, so that’s my punishment. At least I don’t have to visit the deeper parts of hell anymore and can just stay here and dine and drink wine all day. It’s not bad.”

Joy’s gaze lingered on Jongdae’s collar before she looked up and touched Jongdae’s cheek.

“Wait it out. Soon all those years will feel like seconds, and you can join us properly again,” she said.

Jongdae said nothing but pressed his lips together. Joy was on everyone’s side, and when it mattered the most, she could not choose a side to support, could not choose only one demon to fight for. So she fought for both and cried for both, wept for all.

Joy smiled and patted his cheek before she left. Jongdae was glad he didn’t say anything about the stray tear that had raced down her cheek.

But with a heavy heart, he knew waiting was impossible. Every second felt like a year, and every moment he spent trapped in this collar felt like an eternity. His sentence was not forever, but it was for long enough that counting down the hours, the minutes, the years felt agonizingly long enough.

At least he could stay here. At least he wasn’t banished outside, banished to the torture division. Jongdae breathed and pushed onwards and headed to the kitchen. He had wasted enough time wandering and knew by now that Luhan had probably awoken. Luhan usually had many specially prepared dishes he liked to eat for breakfast, so if he didn’t eat at the hall, then Jongdae expected he’d have to wheel down a giant cart all for him.

Luhan only hired the best cooks, but his staff often changed because no one liked staying in the same job with the same routine forever. It was understandable, and Luhan didn’t mind as long as they served him the proper food before they left.

This morning, this cook, evidently a new one, was not used to working on Luhan’s schedule, so Jongdae was forced to wait inside the kitchen until he finished. The kitchen was dim, illuminated by only the small crackling fire inside the open oven. Bunches of herbs that ranged from rosemary to thyme, nightshade to oregano, hung upside down from the ceiling on little silver threads. On the other side of the kitchen, various animals hung from racks, slowly bleeding out.

Jongdae caught the cook glancing at him every now and then with a knife clenched in one hand, a slab of raw meat in the other. The cook looked as if he was on the verge of saying something, opening his mouth every now and then. It seemed he was not brave enough to speak, so he didn’t.

Jongdae hated the stares. He knew what they were all looking at, what they were all thinking. He would’ve thought that after years and years of this, it’d be easier, but it wasn’t. It never was, and Jongdae wanted nothing more than to race forwards to the future, the time where he’d finally be free.

Jongdae stood, plucking a red apple from the basket, tossing it in the air before taking a bite into it. The crunch echoed in the silence, and Jongdae coldly stared back at the chef who no longer hid his looks but openly gawked.

“Luhan might ask me for your head if you delay his breakfast any longer,” Jongdae calmly said, “But I’ll take off your head without asking.”

Instead of lowering his gaze and promising to work faster with hurried, hushed words, the cook stabbed the knife into the wood of the cutting board and stretched his lips out into a smile. He seemed to take that as an invitation to speak.

“Does it bother you,” the cook said, “To be running around fetching things for him?”

“No,” Jongdae said, his eyebrow twitching not because of the question, but rather the tone, “I thought you were already done with his breakfast. He’ll throw a fit if it’s late.”

“It’s done, it’s done,” the cook said, “Let me put the final garnish.”

The cook grabbed a handful of assorted herbs and roughly chopped them. Luhan would have fired this demon on the spot if the herbs were any more jaggedly cut. The cook peeked up at Jongdae every now and then again, and Jongdae tried his best to resist the temptation of gouging the demon’s eyes out with the knife on the wooden block. He hated those types of looks.

“Here we go. Breakfast for the young master,” he said, placing the finished dish on the cart.

Jongdae nodded once and began to wheel the cart towards Luhan’s room.

“It’s such a shame,” the cook called out to Jongdae, “You could’ve had so much power if you had succeeded. You wouldn’t have to be doing things like this.”

Jongdae slowly turned, hoping that his gaze was as dark and dangerous, his red eyes as gleaming and glaring as he wanted them to be. The shadows around him grew darker, whirled around him faster, and Jongdae took a deep breath and smiled. He snatched a knife from the table closest to him, glanced at the cook who was plucking some nightshade from the ceiling, and hurtled the knife at his hand.

“I didn’t do it for the power, you fucking fool,” Jongdae said as calmly as he could, turning around and ignoring the screams as he pushed forwards.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“You need a new cook,” Jongdae said once he reached Luhan’s room, “This one needs a bit of a holiday.”

Luhan was still in bed, wrapped in his blankets, but sat up when Jongdae arrived. He stretched his wings out with a yawn before replying.

“Jongdae,” Luhan clucked his tongue, “What did you do this time?”

“Nothing,” Jongdae smiled, placing a plate of fruit in front of Luhan, “He had a bit of an accident with one of the knives. The poor thing accidentally stabbed his hand.”

“Oh? Accidentally?” Luhan mused, plucking a red grape from the plate and popping it in his mouth, “That’s too bad. I’ll have someone find another cook. One that knows how to use a knife…just look at how this fruit was cut. How tragic.”

“Find one with manners,” Jongdae said. The previous anger had simmered down into a small flame of frustration, and Jongdae clenched his fists to try and extinguish the feeling completely. “And one that knows when to be afraid. I threatened to take his head off and he just went for it.”

“So you want me to take off his head because he bothered you,” Luhan said, reaching for another grape, “Wouldn’t that be an abuse of power?”

“I didn’t say that,” Jongdae said as he climbed onto Luhan’s bed and sat in front of him, “I was just saying. Just telling you.”

Luhan raised his eyebrows at Jongdae’s words but only bit into another grape and sucked the top of it as he stared blankly at the wrinkled bed sheets in front of him.

“If you asked me that five hundred years ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated.” Luhan finally said.

That was true. Jongdae could remember countless instances of Luhan attempting such acts when they were younger, when they were freer.

“Yeah, well even now, things aren’t that different,” Jongdae said, lightly touching Luhan’s shoulder, “You’re still here, and I’m still by your side.”

“It’s really a shame,” Luhan shook off Jongdae’s hand, “If only things could be different.”

Every time Jongdae tried that, Luhan pushed him away, shoved him off. Jongdae kept trying anyways in the hopes that one day, things might be different. One day, things could be like how they used to. But it didn’t hurt any less every single time he failed.

Luhan turned his attention to the food, picked up a large plate of eggs, and began eating. Jongdae let the silence continue and speared a slice of fruit with a fork. They ate in silence for a whole minute before Luhan gave up and started talking. Jongdae was glad that Luhan could not possibly shut up for more than a few moments when he was around him. It made eternity less empty. Less lonely.

“I’m excited for this break. I think things will finally happen the way I want. We’re giving the demons a chance to do whatever their little hearts desire, so it’s only a matter of time now,” Luhan nodded, “Maybe they’re intimidated by my presence, so my absence will inspire them. I am a Lu after all.”

“You’ve had breaks before,” Jongdae carefully said, “What makes you think this time will be different? That this time they’ll act? They’ve had all of eternity, all of forever to do something, but they haven’t. Maybe you should do something.”

“They _have_ to,” Luhan calmly said, “I need them to.”

Jongdae knew that look on Luhan’s face, so he didn’t press the topic. It was better to let Luhan think of what he wanted all by himself, to plant the idea into Luhan’s mind and let it grow on its own.

“What are your plans for today?” Jongdae asked after another moment passed.

“Painting,” Luhan said, taking the last bite of his breakfast, “I want to paint. If DVB could spend all his time here working on music while he ruled, then I think I’m allowed to paint. I do enjoy fine art after all.”

“And fine wine,” Jongdae muttered as he placed their empty plates back on the cart. He kept his voice hushed, not wanting to remind Luhan he hadn’t had his first drink of the day yet.

Jongdae pushed the empty cart outside, leaving it for some other demon to take back to the kitchen. He returned and sat on the edge of Luhan’s bed and watched as Luhan lugged out his easel, placed a large, blank canvas on it, and pulled out his paints and brushes.

“What will you paint?” Jongdae asked.

“I’ll paint you,” Luhan said as he took a seat behind the easel and disappeared behind the canvas, only the tips of his wings poking out, “Still life is overrated.”

“Me?” Jongdae asked, hopping off the bed, “Do you want me to pose with a sword? Or call in one of your deer? Or—”

“Just sit on the chair and act luxurious, snooty, and arrogant,” Luhan said.

“So like you?” Jongdae asked.

“Just _sit,_ Jongdae,” Luhan said, squeezing out some black paint.

Jongdae hopped off the bed to sit on the armchair, crossed one leg over the other, and held his arms out in a way that he had seen Luhan try. Luhan began sketching him, peeking out of the easel every now and then for reference. Every time he met Jongdae’s gaze, he quickly hid behind the easel, filling the silence with scratches of his pencil.

“This won’t do,” Luhan finally said after the next time he looked over, reaching for his eraser, “Take your shirt off and sit on a stool with your back facing me. I want to try some anatomical painting.”

“Can you even see my muscles under my tattoos?” Jongdae asked, though he complied and took off his shirt, exposing his back and his tattoos to Luhan. They looked exactly like Luhan’s wings, burned on his skin, but he could not spread them out like Luhan could spread his, and he could not fly like Luhan could.

“Of course I can,” Luhan said, “The fire illuminates them well.”

“It’s too bad these tattoos can’t stick out from my skin,” Jongdae said, feeling them flutter on his back, “Flying would be so useful here.”

“They’re not meant to fly. They were supposed to mean your loyalty to me, that you exist to be by my side,” Luhan said, putting down his eraser at last. Soon, he picked up his pencil, and faster than before, quickly sketched an outline.

“They do. I am,” Jongdae said, looking over his shoulder to find Luhan. But Luhan disappeared behind the easel, concentrating on his painting. Luhan didn’t remember the past as Jongdae remembered it, didn’t understand what had happened the way Jongdae had understood. So Jongdae stood still and waited in the dark, keeping silent as moments passed.

“I was excited that day,” Luhan said after a long time. He dipped his brush into the water beside him to clean it before dabbing it on a cloth and choosing a lighter color.

“What day?” Jongdae said, daring to turn slightly towards Luhan.

“Wait, don’t move…I’m almost done,” Luhan commanded, peeking over the top of the easel with a frown. Done? That was fast.

“Alright, alright,” Jongdae said, turning back to how he had posed before. Pleased, Luhan disappeared back behind the easel.

“What day?” Jongdae tried again. It was hard to look at Luhan from this position, but he strained his neck as far as he could.

There was only silence for a long moment, and out of fear Luhan would never answer, Jongdae opened his mouth, about to ask again. But the words died on his lips when Luhan finally answered.

“The day you appeared in the fire pit,” Luhan said a little softer, “Don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember,” Jongdae said, suddenly growing tired of being in this same position, “How could I not?”

It was his first day of existence after all.

“I was young, just a tiny demon with tiny black wings,” Luhan said, “My father said it was my turn to greet the next demon that came to be. So I did. You’re lucky my beautiful face was the first thing that you saw when you opened your eyes.”

“Hm. I would’ve been better off being greeted by the fire than your face,” Jongdae teased.

“Please,” Luhan said, “Not all demons are lucky enough to be greeted when they wake. Think of all those who come to be, who reform only to face nothing but fire and darkness. Again.”

“I remember you grinned at me…your front tooth was missing,” Jongdae closed his eyes and remembered. After taking his first gasps of breath, he writhed against the ground, hands raking and grasping at anything he could find. But there was only ash under his fingertips, fire around his body, and Luhan staring from above.

A disorienting sight for a newly born demon.

“You screamed hello in my ear and grabbed my hair,” Jongdae let out a chuckle. He had remembered letting out a wail in return and grabbing Luhan’s hands, trying to make him stop.

“I said I was excited,” Luhan said, “And I’d never seen a demon with curly hair before.”

“If you want to pull on my hair now, give me a warning at least. That traumatized me when I was younger,” Jongdae said, opening his eyes at last. Even now, the first thing he saw was Luhan and the flames. There really was only that around here.

“Your hair is only wavy now, Jongdae,” Luhan shook his head, “And we’re older now. Things have changed.”

“You were gentle though,” Jongdae said, blinking as he stared down at the dark floor.

“What?” Luhan said, slowly lowering his paintbrush.

“When you molded the flames on my back to give me my tattoos, my wings,” Jongdae said, remembering how Luhan had patted his cheeks before clumsily but gently pressing the fire to his back. “When you made us firebound.”

“Demons aren’t gentle,” Luhan scoffed, returning to his painting, “Try again, Jongdae.”

“Well you didn’t hurt me then,” Jongdae said, swinging his feet off from the edge of the stool. He could feel his own tattooed wings fluttering, crawling over his skin.

 “That was then,” Luhan said, his countenance twisting up into a dark expression before relaxing and letting out a sigh, “I wonder what I would’ve done if you had said no. No, Luhan I will not be your right hand demon because fuck you I just woke up and you’re asking big things. No, Luhan, I will not stand by your side as the future ruler of hell’s loyal commander. No, Luhan, I will not be your firebound demon. Where would we have been then. Where would you be now.”

 Before he could let silence pass between them, Luhan placed his paintbrush down into the water, the handle clinking against the cup.

“But I didn’t say no,” Jongdae said. Perhaps he didn’t know any better because he was young, though he wouldn’t change his answer now, even if Luhan believed otherwise.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s done,” Luhan said before striding out of the room, “What’s done is done. You live with what you chose, Jongdae.”

Jongdae sat there for a second longer, and even now, even after all he lost, he didn’t regret. He put on his shirt, eager to see what Luhan painted.

A dark shadow was cast over Jongdae’s acrylic face, masking his countenance. From the way his face was obscured, the painting could have been about anyone, but from the wing tattoos painted across his back, that couldn’t be. From the left top corner of the painting, a strange ray of light entered, chasing away a little bit of the darkness.

Jongdae didn’t know where the light came from because there was nothing but empty darkness and dim fire here.

 

           

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae spent the next day anticipating what would happen in the next few hours to him. It never was any easier no matter how many times it happened. He was tense, yelled at a demon for standing and loitering around Luhan’s covered portrait for no reason, threatened to chop off people’s hands if they didn’t get out of his way, and struggled to stay calm. He was just about to almost start a fight with another demon who he swore looked at him funny before Sunmi intervened.

“Jongdae, there you are!” she cried out, reaching out to take Jongdae’s hand. Jongdae could never cut off her hands, so he allowed himself to be led away. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really,” Jongdae said, unconvinced as he noticed how Sunmi looked behind her to make sure no one followed them.

“Really,” she insisted, finally slowing their pace when they were far away enough, though still kept her hand tightly grasping Jongdae’s.

Silence with Sunmi was comfortable, effortless, and if neither of them had anything to say, then it was fine. They were fine. She did not blame him even if Jongdae had thought she would’ve been the first to do so. They continued walking down the hall, past the hallway of portraits of previous Lus. Sunmi ignored all of them, passing by without even a glance, and stopped in front of Luhan’s portrait to reach out and touch the curtain.

She frowned, motioning Jongdae to step back as she slipped her hand out of his for a moment. He watched her, knowing exactly what she was going to do. Just because Luhan didn’t care about his portrait didn’t mean Sunmi didn’t. She shook the curtain, never minding the dust falling on her. In the light, it made her hair look ashy, almost gray. She tossed her hair and the dust fell to the floor, leaving behind her eternally shining self. For a moment longer, she grasped the bottom of the curtain before turning back to Jongdae. 

“I need your opinion,” Sunmi said at last, clasping her hands together.

“What is it?” Jongdae asked.

“I was thinking of getting Luhan something,” she said, “since he’s been working hard. Something to celebrate his return to work and the end of his break.”

“Wine,” Jongdae said without even a pause, “That’s always an easy gift.”

“He has enough wine,” Sunmi said. Her red makeup sparkled under the firelight and looked like ruby dust. “You know him best. What would he want?”

Something he couldn’t have. Not right now at least.

“You know him, too,” Jongdae said, “What would you say?”

“Something I don’t have the power to do for him,” Sunmi said, before gazing at Jongdae, “You’re tense. It must be today, right?”

So it was that obvious. So he was that obvious.

She looked as if she was about to say something, but Jongdae knew better because there were no sorries, no apologies in hell. That was Luhan’s number one rule after all. Instead, she took a deep breath, as if she was the one who was about to endure what Jongdae was facing, and smiled.

“I don’t blame you,” Sunmi said, “You know that right? But I do wish things could be different.”

She gently touched Jongdae’s collar with her free hand.

“I know,” Jongdae said.

“Do whatever it takes to be free,” she said, moving her hand to squeeze his shoulder, “I won’t blame you if it ends badly.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jongdae said, “There will be a way out, whether it’s tomorrow or years from tomorrow.”

The smile on Sunmi’s face wavered, and she gave up, pressing her lips together instead.

“Maybe one day it can be like the old times,” she nodded slowly, “I’d like that very much.”

She waved, the skirts of her wispy dress billowing behind her as she walked down the hallway, sending the flames flickering.

The old times. They were the worst of times, the best of times, and if there was one thing Jongdae knew for certain, then it was a time to which everyone wanted to return.

He spent the day stalking around, trying to ignore the ticking hours, the time that escaped and passed no matter what Jongdae did. He shivered, folding his arms together to stop himself from shaking and clenched his hands together to ground himself. Just before he was about to go to the armory to hack away at some dummies, he caught a flicker of a candle floating in the hallway.

It was hard to hide big, black wings even in a dimly lit place, but Jongdae was not surprised to find Luhan out of his room wandering around. He trailed after him, noticing how Luhan looked down from the balconies and observed the demons down below with an odd expression. He clasped his hands together as if he was trying to make something happen, as if he believed and willed it enough, things would happen the way he wanted.

“You keep waiting and waiting, but there’s no use in hiding here. Whatever it is you want, do it yourself,” Jongdae said, causing Luhan to slightly jolt. When he turned to find only Jongdae, he relaxed.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Luhan said, “I’m just watching them.”

“You’re waiting,” Jongdae corrected, “You’re waiting for something to happen.”

“I run this place,” Luhan crossed his arms together, “I don’t wait. If I want things to happen, then I make them happen.”

“Then make them happen,” Jongdae said, and the forcefulness of his tone killed any reply from Luhan who lowered his gaze and settled in silence. It was not the first time he told Luhan this, but it was the first time that Luhan spent this long thinking instead of only speaking.

Jongdae waited and hoped.

“I didn’t expect you to find me so soon,” Luhan said instead, making Jongdae’s heart sink, “If I were you, I’d stay away from me as far as possible on these days.”

“Well. I saw a pair of black wings, a terrible attempt at hiding, so I wanted to see how long you thought you could keep this up thinking that no one saw you,” Jongdae said. It was fine. Maybe one day Luhan would finally snap after listening to Jongdae’s words and act. They had all the years ahead anyways.

Luhan attempted to glare at Jongdae but let the false malice slide off of his features as he watched Jongdae offer him a smile. He returned his gaze to the demons below and reached out to grab at the balcony’s vertical bars.

“I really didn’t think anyone would notice,” Luhan muttered, “It’s too dim in this fucking place, so I thought I’d blend in.”

“If it’s too dim, then add more light,” Jongdae said, “Hell is yours now after all now.”

“Hell has always been dark,” Luhan said, “If the dead wanted light, then they should have been kinder when they lived.”

Jongdae remembered the time and touched his collar. It was still cold to the touch, and he took a shaky breath and dropped his hand. He didn’t want to feel any more of that iron that he needed to. The action caught Luhan’s attention, and he gripped the candle tightly in his hands before he leaned in closer to speak.

“It’s almost time, right?” Luhan said, his eyes darting back and forth quickly across Jongdae’s face. Jongdae didn’t need to answer for him to know.

“Come on,” Luhan said, standing and pulling Jongdae up quickly with him, “If you don’t want anyone to see in case you miscounted the hours, then let’s go to my room now.”

From the way Luhan almost flew and tore down the hallways as he held Jongdae’s hand and pulled him along, Jongdae would have thought Luhan was the one about to face the worst ahead.

When they reached Luhan’s room, Luhan immediately strode towards the windows, tore open the curtains, and stood with his back to Jongdae to watch the darkness outside. He never liked to look at Jongdae during these moments. Never could he face him.

Jongdae was aware of the seconds counting down, the mere moments that remained, so he tried to make himself as comfortable as possible before it was too late and knelt, keeping his chin up.

He desperately tried to hold onto the seconds, to freeze time itself, but it was never possible, and with his heart beating so quickly he thought he’d suffocate, he counted the last three, two, one…

And then he felt the pain.

His collar suddenly pulsed, clamped in, squeezing his neck tighter and tighter as he gasped for air. As if that wasn’t bad enough, soon it began growing hotter and hotter, burning his skin. That was only the beginning. Then came the stabbing. Slitting. Burning. Choking. All the worst pains all at once. Jongdae clawed at his collar, writhing on the floor. If the pain was localized to just his neck, then maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad. Maybe. But Jongdae suffered everything, felt every single pain in his whole body without any respite, without any other sight than the darkness he plunged himself into as he squeezed his eyes shut tight.

Maybe this was what death felt like.

Being torn apart and destroyed all at once.

Despite everything, Jongdae refused to let even a single scream or cry fall from his lips. Not for Luhan’s sake, but for his own.

It was funny. He was so good at keeping the time and remembering how many days were left until the next punishment, how many years, minutes, seconds until he was finally free. But every time the collar pained him like this, Jongdae could never remember how many minutes had passed. There was only an endless abyss of suffering, one that he couldn’t escape no matter how much he desperately pulled at his throat and clawed at the floor.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain faded, and Jongdae lay shivering on the floor, allowing himself a moment and only a moment to recover. This was not for his sake, but for Luhan’s. After that moment, he crawled to his knees before standing up on weak legs.

“What are you looking at?” Jongdae said, trying his best to sound unaffected as he rejoined Luhan. He was almost successful, but his voice sounded a little hoarse, a little shaky. 

There was nothing to talk about. The past was the past. Luhan hastily took a cursory look before realizing Jongdae’s weekly punishment was over. His shoulders relaxed, and he shoved his hands in his pocket and turned half of his body back towards Jongdae.

“Everything’s the same,” Luhan said. Jongdae caught a small waver in Luhan’s voice. “The line’s probably longer, but it’s not like we’d know because it’s always long. You can never see the end.”

“I can’t imagine how many more people joined the line by now just because you wanted a week to ditch your duties and do nothing,” Jongdae said, trying his best to shift the mood.

“Shut up,” Luhan said, but there was no bite to his words. “They can wait a week. They can wait for all of eternity if I feel like it.”

“No one offered to step in this time,” Jongdae said.

“Who wants my job after all,” Luhan shrugged, “Maybe one day.”

“One day someone will take your job if the conditions are right,” Jongdae said. He wondered how many times he’d have to feed Luhan hints until Luhan finally acted and was ready to devour hell.

Luhan hummed a short melody to himself for a while as he stared at the window. If things were different, Jongdae would have joined him and opened his mouth to sing.

“I should get back,” Luhan said at last, “The line is getting too long.”

“Do you think you’ll ever reach the end of it?” Jongdae asked.

“I can try,” Luhan said, his eyebrows tilting upwards, “I wonder what will happen if I ever do.”

“You’ve been here for so long,” Jongdae pressed on, “If you want something different to happen, then make it happen. You’re Luhan. Ruler of hell. The moon bends for you only if you want enough.”

Something changed in Luhan’s expression, triggering his lips to press together, his head to tilt, and his arms to cross across his chest. There was a dangerous pause of silence, but Jongdae said enough.

“I wonder what will happen if I do,” Luhan repeated.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

But Luhan did not act.

He did not attempt anything unusual, anything that deviated from his regular routine.

And that was fine.

There was only so much Jongdae could hint, could imply, and he could not push Luhan if Luhan didn’t want to move. He was a Lu after all. Nothing could control them except their own selves, their own kind.

As the next week began, Jongdae was unsurprised to see Luhan back at the line once again as if nothing had changed.

“Let me go to heaven,” a soul pleaded, getting on their knees as they bowed tearfully at Luhan’s feet, “ _Please_.”

“As if,” Luhan scoffed, “I’ll let you go back when hell freezes.”

“When does it freeze?” the soul said hopefully, gazing around, “You must have a winter season here with snow, lots of snow. Send me back then. Send me back soon. I really can’t stay _here…_ I can’t stay in hell. _Please_.”

“Never,” Luhan smiled before snapping his fingers, causing two demons to approach, “It never freezes, so have fun in the abyss. It’s not quite torture, but not the fields either. You’ll have a terrible time.”

Jongdae impassively stood in his place beside Luhan’s throne, listening to the screams of the dead. The next soul approached as Luhan called, and she trembled as she stepped forwards.

“Is this…p—” she began to say.

“ _God_ ,” Luhan groaned, “I fucking hate— Never mind. Ask me one more time if this is purgatory and I’ll just send you to torture myself. I dare you. I really dare you.”

“You’re allowed to say God?” the soul shakily said instead, “Aren’t you, like, _Lucifer_?”

“What…Do I look like Lucifer?” Luhan said, pointing at himself, “Do I _look_ like an arrogant, aged demon who doomed the whole human race over a fucking piece of fruit?”

“Yes?” the soul said. Jongdae didn’t know where this human found their bravery from. “At least the arrogance. You don’t look young either. A little ashy I might say.”

Luhan’s jaw dropped open, and he placed a hand over his chest.

“What the _fuck_ did you just say to me?” Luhan said, standing up, “Step the _fuck_ up and get over here.”

He tried to stride towards the dead, but Jongdae pushed him back to his chair. Luhan reluctantly sat down, but stared pointedly at the dead.

“I have never been more offended in my life,” Luhan said. Jongdae remembered a time when he’d said a similar phrase two days ago. “Lucky for you, I am not petty enough to send you straight to the torture fields over your…your _comments._ But lucky for me, your sins speak for themselves. Have fun in torture anyways, you _fucking b—_ ”

“Alright!” Jongdae said, clapping his hands together, “You’ve made your point.”

“Jongdae, did you _hear_ that?” Luhan said, turning to him and still looking equally scandalized. “The…the _audacity_ …She tried to compare me to _Cifer_. Cissy Cifer! Do I look old? Do I really look that old? Do I need to work more on skin care? Jongdae do I have _wrinkles_?”

He grabbed Jongdae’s shoulders and pressed his face close to Jongdae’s, thrusting his cheek forwards. Jongdae sighed and obliged Luhan, pretending to stare at his nonexistent wrinkles.

“Yes you do,” Jongdae said, causing Luhan to let a dramatic gasp. “It’s from all the wine.”

“Nonsense,” Luhan said, relaxing as he slouched back in his chair, “Wine is good for you. If that guy up there changed water to wine no problem, then I can have as much as I want. It’s not even a sin.”

Jongdae was spared from even thinking of an answer as the door opened and Yeri approached them.

“Yeri,” Jongdae greeted her, “How are you? Did you—”

“Joy’s back,” Yeri said instead to Luhan, “So come and have dinner before she disappears again.”

Luhan noticed Jongdae’s expression and quickly got to his feet to announce that he would be back, ignoring the screams and pleas from the line. There were moments where Luhan acted so consciously like now that Jongdae thought he must have been forgiven. But when they all walked together to the dining hall, those were only dreams because Luhan and Yeri kept their conversation between themselves, not even looking at Jongdae.

“Joy,” Luhan said, spreading his hands out as he entered the dining hall with a bang, “You didn’t even say good-bye last time you left. We missed you.”

“It was only for a day,” Joy said with a smile, beckoning everyone over to sit by their usual table where she was already seated next to Sunmi.

“It was a few days,” Luhan said as he took a seat.

“Too long,” Sunmi said, pouring Luhan a glass of wine. Jongdae touched her arm to signal it was time to stop pouring.

“You weren’t even around during that time,” Joy waved a finger at him, “you and your breaks.”

“It’s nice to have a break,” Luhan said, accepting the glass and immediately taking a long drink, “But you were off working…with your dead. What did they want this time?”

“Oh, the usual,” Joy said, “Reassurance that there might be a chance that they could leave here one day. Reassurance that they haven’t been forgotten. Reassurance that they’re not alone.”

“They’re not,” Luhan laughed, placing his glass on the table, “they have each other. Why do they need you?”

“My dead just need me,” Joy shrugged. Jongdae noticed spare traces of makeup under her eyes.

“Alright, alright,” Luhan said, “Just stay here. Don’t visit them too often or we’ll feel neglected, Joy.”

“You’ll feel neglected?” Joy laughed, reaching forwards to pinch Luhan’s cheek. “You have Jongdae by your side always. And yet you still want more attention?”

“I thrive in attention,” Luhan loudly said, “Give me wine or attention, and you have my interest.”

“I don’t have anymore wine,” Sunmi said after Jongdae snuck the bottle off the table and hid it underneath his chair, “But how about this flask? I had it made especially for you.”

She pulled out a bejeweled flask and handed it to Luhan who took it with a gasp. He held it up to the light, examining it and shaking it to make sure there wasn’t any wine left there.

“Thank you,” Luhan said, already flipping open the cap and pouring wine in it, “I’ll use it always. It’s wonderful, Sunmi.”

Sunmi smiled and winked at Jongdae before taking a sip of her own wine. Jongdae smiled as he sat back and listened to the gentle clink of knives against plates, wine glass against wine glass, and the chattering. Occasionally, Yeri entertained with a few magic tricks. The others didn’t care that they’d seen similar tricks every day, and every time she made something disappear or performed an illusion, they all gasped and asked her how did she did it. But this could not last, and just as they had all laughed after Yeri made Luhan’s wine disappear and reappear somehow in someone else’s glass, Sunmi spoke and ended what they had.

“It’s just like the old times,” Sunmi laughed, clapping her hands together, “Let’s just go back together.”

Her comment earned her silence and dropped gazes. Jongdae tried not to feel guilty that he was the one who had changed things, who had tried to rewrite time but failed. If he hadn’t acted, then things would’ve been the same.

Across the table, Luhan rubbed his forehead and downed the last of his glass.

“Sor—” Sunmi already started to say before Luhan silenced her with a look.

“Don’t,” he said.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

The week passed quickly. That was the thing about hell. Sometimes a day felt like a year, and sometimes a year felt like a day. So when it was time to suffer again, it almost took Jongdae by surprise. Again? It had felt like just yesterday.

On days like these, Luhan was quieter. There was less _Jongdae, make sure the cook remembers to chop the herbs neatly or I’ll fire him,_ less _Jongdae, make sure those demons don’t start a fight because I don’t have the energy to yell at them,_ and less _Jongdae, get your fucking hand off of my shoulder._ There were more long looks, more furrowed brows, more silent expressions that probably meant _Jongdae, you fool. Why did you do it?_

On these days, Jongdae spent the limited time he had before it was too late finding Sunmi, Joy, and Yeri. They did not offer him deep embraces, offers to take his place, but a demon’s comfort. Sunmi would hold Jongdae’s hand, promise him she’d stab anyone who said anything nasty about him, and pressed a kiss to his cheek when it was time for him to go. Joy’s makeup that smudged under her eyelids like black rain was more common on such days, and she’d distract him by asking him how she looked, keeping his mind off of the future, anchoring him by making him reply _yes, she looked as beautiful as always_. Yeri didn’t tell him she was too busy to spend time with him and offered him a card that could explode whenever he wanted it to. On these days, Jongdae hated what had happened but never regretted, never for a single moment.

Some Lus designed hell to be a place of celebration because if Lucifer sinned, then why suffer? Sins should be celebrated, vices indulged in. If heaven were a place where sinners were turned away, then hell would welcome them with wine, open arms, and drinks all day. Other Lus designed hell to be a place of punishment because if Lucifer sinned, then suffer for the same. If demons must live in hell, then hell they’d bring to everyone else. Sins should be extended to others, pain reciprocated. 

Luhan certainly didn’t celebrate the sins of the dead, but he didn’t personally handle torture and walked the fine line between punishment and celebration. Jongdae liked to think he himself walked the fine line between desperation and acceptance, forever torn between waiting out his punishment and acting. There were only five hundred years left after all. At the same time, if he knew he could be free soon, then he wanted it _now_. But it was not up to him.

“You should rest,” Jongdae said to Luhan when he entered his room without knocking, hoping talk of anything at all would ease his heart and distract his mind, “For the day. Don’t take another weeklong vacation and hold up the line again.”

“So I can wake up to see the same thing? So I can have energy to do this again?” Luhan scowled, but quickly erased the expression off of his face as if he, too, remembered what time it was.

“So it won’t be tiring to be in your company and so you won’t act like a fucking—” Jongdae started to say before Luhan interrupted with a laugh.

“Jongdae, I wish we could turn back time. What a shame, really. What a shame,” he said, his gaze flickering to Jongdae’s collar again.

“You can always rewrite time,” Jongdae said, trying not to rush his words. But his heart strained against his chest.

Luhan turned to look at him, his eyes searching for something in Jongdae’s countenance.

“You betrayed me, Jongdae,” Luhan said, “This is why you wear that collar, why you’re punished.”

Jongdae pressed his lips together to avoid speaking what he had always wanted to say. But the words clawed at his throat, unsaid, unheard, unknown by anyone but him.

“I did what I did for my own reason,” Jongdae said just like he had always said. Nothing more, nothing less.

“You never even said sorry,” Luhan said, the side of his mouth quirking up. No more, no less.

“You only have one rule in here: Don’t be sorry. So I’m not,” Jongdae said as calmly as he could. Conversations like these were not common and had been spread out a few times across the past years, but it didn’t mean it was any easier the first time or the last time or this time. Jongdae didn’t want there to be a next time.

“But I’m right here for you to say it,” Luhan softly said, his voice dropping to a hush, as if he couldn’t even believe he wanted a sorry.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Jongdae shrugged.

Luhan’s countenance twisted, his expression darkened, and suddenly a blinding pain started searing and tearing at Jongdae’s throat. Jongdae fell to his knees, clawing at his skin, struggling to breathe. A week gone already since the last time? He fell to the floor, and the only thing he could see from where he lay were the fires crackling from the fireplace.

The pain took him by surprise today, so this time, he was unable to stop himself from choking out a pained gasp, unleashing a long, wild swear. The sound sent Luhan running, but Jongdae heard his footsteps seem further and further away.

This pain was not permanent at least, and Jongdae would survive this. He would. He had. After a while, after the pain finally stopped, Jongdae lay on the floor for a moment and no more, and stood up. He found Luhan standing with his back to him staring outside the window. He hadn’t watched any of what had happened again. Just like always.

For a while, Luhan continued staring at the darkness outside, tracing the little outlines of different shadows at the line. Some would go to the abyss. Some would go to the fields. Some would go to torture. A few lucky ones would be allowed to wander back to the end of the line in the hopes of finding purgatory. None would go now because Luhan was here, wasting his time away, taking a break from judgment. Jongdae wasted his time with him in silence because there wasn’t anything else to do. His dead had been taken from him when the collar had been welded around his throat, so there were no dead to visit. His future, the next five hundred years, had been taken from him, and he was forced to count the seconds anticipating the next dose of pain and how much time was left until he was free. But there was always Luhan, always from the beginning of his existence to now, to forever. Luhan’s side was where Jongdae remained despite everything.

After a while, Luhan spoke because he could never ignore Jongdae no matter how many times he turned his back to him.

“Even if I wanted to take your collar away, I didn’t put it there, Jongdae,” Luhan softly said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“There has to be a way,” Jongdae said, fighting to keep his voice calm. It was too soon to feel like this.

“There isn’t,” Luhan said.

“You rule hell. There has to be something you can do before a different Lu takes your place,” Jongdae said, not wanting to give up this possibility.

Luhan shifted in place, fluttering his wings. Jongdae stepped closer, his shadow slightly covered by Luhan’s wings. He waited for Luhan to speak, pleading that this would be the time Luhan acted, this would be the time for change, this would be the time to change.

“A different Lu? Then let’s trade. Get me something I want, and I’ll give you what you want,” Luhan finally said, and Jongdae resisted the urge to punch the air.

“Anything,” Jongdae blurted out. Something reached into his chest and squeezed his heart, and for a moment, Jongdae felt like he was soaring even though Luhan was the one with real wings. “I promise. Maybe you can finally take that permanent retirement.”

But after years of suggesting, of hinting, of inserting the thoughts into Luhan’s mind, Jongdae watched as Luhan finally snapped. The only difference was that Luhan was smart enough to realize what Jongdae had done. Unlike a different demon from the past.

“Retirement. Different Lus. Breaks. I didn’t know that I was that obvious,” Luhan said.

Luhan wasn’t that obvious to minor demons who didn’t pay him any attention. But to Jongdae who had spent his whole existence with him, Luhan and his behavior, his actions, his thoughts no matter how subtle or concealed, were the most obvious.

“You really want that collar off before your time,” Luhan shook his head off, “if you’ve resorted to using your tricks on me.”

“More than anything,” Jongdae said before hastily adding, “But they’re not tricks. I know what you want more than anything.”

It wasn’t manipulation if Jongdae was just voicing what Luhan wanted and what he thought. At least that’s what Jongdae told himself.

“Please,” Jongdae said, his voice barely a whisper now.

Luhan stared. Demons did not ask for what they wanted. They only took what they wanted when they wanted.

“If not for my sake, then for yours,” Jongdae said, struggling to repress everything he felt. He needed to stay focused and convince Luhan, just _convince_ him and maybe, just maybe then would he want—

“No,” Luhan said, “Can’t you just wait it out?”

“Luhan,” Jongdae tried again, “Waiting for what seems like eternity is too much. Do you know what this collar feels like? I can’t even describe it…it’s like all the most terrible pains all at once.” 

Luhan’s face twisted as Jongdae began explaining, slowly saying that it really was like burning, like stabbing, like slitting, like twisting…

“Really, Luhan,” Jongdae said, his voice barely a whisper, “If the pain won’t kill me, the waiting will.”

“Then die,” Luhan suddenly yelled at him, “This was _your_ fault, so I don’t know…I don’t know w—”

Jongdae flinched, and before his heart had any time to drop out of his chest, Luhan’s eyes widened and he stopped and covered his mouth with his hands.

“Oh, no…Jongdae,” Luhan said, shaking his head, staring wildly at Jongdae. His eyes flickered back and forth, but Jongdae didn’t know what he was looking for. He was still here. Still in front of him. Always beside him. “I didn’t mean that. I’m so…”

Luhan didn’t finish his sentence, and there were no sorries in hell, so Jongdae would never know what he intended to say. Jongdae pressed his lips together and said nothing. Silence fell between them, but since this was Luhan, the silence didn’t stay for long. Luhan took a deep breath, took a step closer to Jongdae, and spoke.

“Cifer. You know, the original Lu…Lucifer,” Luhan said at last, leaning closer to Jongdae and whispering even though it was only the two of them here. “He has a cage, one originating from near the beginning of time itself. You’ll know which one it is when you’re there. Give it to me, and I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s not good enough,” Jongdae said, snapping his head upwards to return Luhan’s look. His head was spinning, thinking, thinking, thinking of everything, all the possibilities all at once. This could be it. He had no time to consider what he had to do because this had to be it. Visit Cifer’s hellside villa? Break into it and steal a cage?

“That has to be good enough because I don’t even know if I can do it. This give me the chance,” Luhan said, crossing his arms across his chest.

Jongdae didn’t know how a cage would help, but he wasn’t complaining.

“Will you take it or not?” Luhan asked. But from the way he already turned to look back out the window, he already knew. A chance was better than no chance, something was better than nothing, and Jongdae would seize whatever he could get.

“Done,” Jongdae said.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

It was only when Jongdae was preparing to leave that the true reality of what he had to do sank its claws into his chest and squeezed his heart. He had to leave the comfort of Luhan’s castle and venture into the deeper parts of hell. Try not to fall into the abyss. Try not to get lost. Try not to feel lost when the many hands of the dead coldly brushed against him as he walked through them. Try not to get caught sneaking into Lucifer’s own home.

Luhan didn’t offer any advice. He gave Jongdae his instructions, and that would be the only thing he would give him even as he watched Jongdae check all the weapons he concealed on himself. If he spoke, he would have cared, and he didn’t care because caring was not for demons.

Jongdae didn’t tell the others until the very last minute when he was about to leave. There was nothing to take with him, as food and water were unnecessary, so Jongdae at least took his time here. Now. He looked back behind him, felt relieved that Luhan had at least nodded once before turning away, and walked onwards towards the gaping hole that led outside. But the others clung to his arms, his hands, and begged him to stay. It was easy to get lost in hell after all, especially if the destination was not clear on one’s mind. Joy could easily come back after days in the fields, but not many other demons immediately did. Time was warped. What felt like one day in the fields could be years when they returned.

Jongdae didn’t care. A year spent wandering would be better than years and years of living with this pain, with this suffering, with this iron collar strangling his throat.

“Don’t go,” Sunmi said. The bottom of her lip wobbled, as if she was trying to hold in a laugh, but Jongdae didn’t know what could be so funny. “The halls will feel empty without you.”

But they already felt empty even though no one had left.

“Don’t go,” Joy said. Her makeup was strangely smudged again and dripped down her face, looking like smeared ashes. He didn’t know what experimental makeup look she tried, but he thought she still looked beautiful. “There aren’t even _that_ many years left. You could’ve waited for them to pass until you were free.”

But Jongdae could not wait any longer.

“Don’t go,” Yeri said, and her eyes were so wide, so, so wide, but Jongdae didn’t see any magic tricks happening around her, so he didn’t know why she must’ve looked like that. Why did he have to leave now when she finally wanted him to stay by her side? “I wasn’t going to be busy tomorrow. I could’ve spent time with you. Just like before.”

It was a little too late for that.

“Go,” Luhan said one last time.

So Jongdae did.

Not for Luhan’s sake, but for his own.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

It was easy enough for anyone to physically walk through hell, as the fields were just a flat open landscape with no trees, no barriers, nothing at all to block the path ahead. There were the dead, of course, but who could feel their wispy hands? Who would stop to listen to the cry of a sinner? Traveling through hell required a mental picture, the very thought of the destination in the mind. Jongdae could only travel towards what he could see and envision, and what he saw depended on where he wanted to go. If Jongdae’s will weakened, then Lucifer’s villa would seem further than it could have been. If he steadily kept the image of Lucifer’s place in his mind and kept walking, he’d reach there sooner than later.

Because he wanted his collar off more than anything, Jongdae easily focused, and as he pictured the villa in his mind as he walked, the shadowy outlines of a tall building appeared in the distance.

As he kept his eyes on the horizon, never blinking until he had to and he kept that building in his mind, he left Luhan’s castle behind him and walked into hell.

Hell was vast and empty despite all the dead filled and crammed to its brim. Jongdae shivered every time a stray hand of the dead brushed past him. But nothing would stop him, and he continued walking onwards, ignoring the dead as best as he could.

It wasn’t like he could see the dead anyways. In darkness everyone looked the same. Everyone was just a shadow, just a silhouette. Jongdae had never appreciated Luhan’s dimly lit castle this much until he was here in the fields. Midnight struck perpetually here, and the darkest times of the night forever smothered the land. In this darkness, no light could shine, no fires could burn through, and no dead could be seen. Not that he wanted to see the haunted faces that roamed here. Jongdae couldn’t even see himself, see even the outlines of his hands if he held them up to his face.

Jongdae pushed thoughts of the dead from his mind and refused to consider anything except that villa. It dawned on the horizon, looking as if Luhan had sketched he outlines of the building with his own hand, and when it seemed close enough, Jongdae sprinted and ran through the dead. Their cries fell on deaf ears, their hands grazed his clothes only for a moment before he tore past them.

Before he knew it, he reached Lucifer’s hellside villa.

Jongdae stood, chest heaving, shrouded by the shadows as he stared up at the stone building in front of him. Where Luhan’s taste in design was refined, Lucifer’s hellside villa was…a fucking mess.

Everything was on fire, and not a single inch of stone was spared. The fires burned uselessly, and at this point, Jongdae didn’t know if the fires burned to offer light or to prove something.

Jongdae cautiously approached, walking across the bridge that led to the front gates. The bridge was narrow, and it shook every time Jongdae took a step. Jongdae kept his balance and dared to take a peek at the sights around the bridge only to find nothing but darkness below. Unsurprising. It vaguely reminded him of the abyss on the other side of hell, where those who were too good for torture but too bad for the fields were thrown into. 

When he finally reached the front gates, there was a large stone snake slithered and curled up on the knocker that was shaped like a half-eaten apple. Lucifer was not known for his subtlety. Clearly.

Jongdae looked around him, debating his options. There were no guards around here, but what was there to guard? The dead couldn’t enter, and there hadn’t been a war since…nearly five hundred years ago. Lucifer had abstained from involving himself in that war, citing that they were internal matters he didn’t care for. Dealing with traitors was not his style, and fighting against them was too bothersome for him.

If he knocked, who would listen? Who would answer?

Instead, Jongdae did the most rational thing and jumped the gate walls. He grazed his hands on the stone spikes, but found the blade dull and his hand unharmed. Functionality was meaningless in this place it seemed. Luhan would have laughed at this architectural disaster, no matter if his oldest ancestor built it or not. Fires didn’t bother demons, so Jongdae brushed off the parts of his clothes that had caught on fire and moved on.

Jongdae immediately spotted two guards standing near the second entrance of the building and examined his options. That was the only entrance at the ground level, and the nearest window was too high, too far away. It would’ve been nice if the winged tattoos on his back could actually work.

He supposed he would take his chances with the guards and approached.

“Hello,” Jongdae said with a smile, “Let me in. I’m here on business matters.”

The guards exchanged a glance before one of them addressed Jongdae.

“What’s the password?” he asked.

Password?

Jongdae laughed.

“Password? To _this_ place?” Jongdae bluffed, “There’s no need for it to be on lockdown, just _look_ at this place. Who likes visiting here anyways? Do you like being here? Do you?”

The guards were silent for a second in which Jongdae tried not to panic before they laughed.

“Right?” one of them chuckled, “I’m just doing my time here for another couple hundred years and then I’m _out_ of here. I here Lucille needs new cooks. Who actually likes Cifer anyways, that old, ug—”

“Hey,” the demon said, elbowing the other, “He might hear.”

“So,” Jongdae said, “Can I pass?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the demon said, waving his hand, “I’ll let him know his interior designer is here. That’s you, right? He mentioned he was expecting you soon.”

“Absolutely,” Jongdae said, pushing past them and entering the villa.

The front door opened up into a wide, expansive room with high ceilings. There really wasn’t much to say about it. No wonder Lucifer had hired an interior designer if _this_ was his home. Jongdae supposed all the stereotypes of hell being on fire came from the first hell Lucifer designed because everything was on fire. The winding stairs at the front of the room that led to who knew where? On fire. The paintings hanging from the wall? On fire. The large chandelier that dangled above everything? On fire.

After Jongdae searched the ground floor, he found no basement where Lucifer could have hidden the cage. But this was hell, after all. How much lower could anyone go than this? So up Jongdae went, stepping on flames as he climbed up the stairs. If Jongdae were an old, ashy demon who had poor taste in décor harboring an important cage, then he’d probably hide it upwards, far from the entrance.

There were too many rooms on the first floor, too many rooms on every floor after that, and after unsuccessfully looking in every room, Jongdae decided to just ask. The first three floors were unguarded, but the fourth had guards stationed around, posted near the doors.

“Lucifer wants a cage,” Jongdae casually said to the nearest guard, “Do you think you could direct me to where he keeps them?”

“Is it important?” the demon asked, glancing at him with squinted eyes. He kept his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, watching for any sudden movements, “He needs it urgently.”

“And he trusted you to bring it to him?” the demon said, lifting his hand away to cross his arms, “You don’t have the authority.”

“What can I say,” Jongdae shrugged, “I’ve just been promoted to a rank higher than you, so show me the cage.”

The demon’s expression began to twist, but just as Jongdae was about to brace himself for an argument or a fight, the demon seemed to remember something and straightened.

“This is important, right?” the demon asked, “Lucifer sent you personally?”

“This is a very urgent matter, like I said,” Jongdae said, hoping he seemed genuine enough. Lying was expected of demons, but not all demons were good at lying.

“But you don’t know where the cage is,” the demon said.

“Well, do you know where everything else is in this place?” Jongdae asked, and as the demon fell silent, he could not help but add, “That’s what I thought. And besides. When is Lucifer ever clear on what he wants?”

Jongdae noticed the way the demon’s jaw was clenched and thought this was a good time to stop.

“Follow me. I’ll lead you to it. You said a cage, right?” the demon said, speedily walking ahead.

“Right,” Jongdae said, keeping himself on guard just in case.

The demon led Jongdae up ten more flights of stairs until they reached a door without a doorknob. He struck different parts of the door in a rhythmic pattern before the door swung open.

Unlike the rest of the villa, this room was submerged in darkness, and only a few candles around the room illuminated it. It was a vast room, bigger than the first few rooms Jongdae visited, and inside, someone had abandoned assorted treasures. Everything from jewels to gold coins to old, rusty swords were thrown together in stacks that almost touched the ceiling. If Jongdae were to take something out, he'd be sure that the whole pile would crash down.

The two of them walked carefully around the gold and glittering objects to find dusty statues and discarded crowns. Rust tainted the delicate metal, and some of the crowns looked so fragile that Jongdae refrained from picking any up in case they’d crumble in his hands. Instead, he turned his attention, looking around past the cups overflowing with diamonds and chests filled to the brim with precious jewels, rings, and necklaces. And finally, beside a mountain of gold coins stood a whole row of cages. Some of them were empty, the doors swinging open or held shut with multiple locks. Others contained things inside, some alive, some mechanical. There were glass birds in one cage and some creature Jongdae didn’t recognize pacing around in another.

“Which one did you say it was?” the demon asked.

Jongdae knew better and pointed at the first one with a little clockwork bird inside it.

“That one,” he said.

“Great. Thanks,” the demon said, and before Jongdae knew it, the demon had quickly pulled out a dagger and stabbed him in the abdomen. Luhan would’ve been so disappointed that Jongdae wasn’t fast enough to defend himself even if he anticipated something like this.

“It’s not personal, but can you imagine what he’ll give me if I give him this? Maybe he’ll promote me and demote you,” the demon laughed, reaching for the cage and beginning to drag it out of the room. Within seconds, the cage was gone, and the door had slammed shut.

Jongdae sighed, stared at the blade impaling him to the wooden cabinet behind him, and shook his head. It was just a minor convenience. Demons couldn’t die like this, not by some petty flesh wound. Jongdae had worse injuries, and he only stood there, feeling a bubble of laughter start to shake his shoulders.

He glanced around him, staring at the place where the demon had escaped and finally laughed, the sound echoing in the silence as his whole body shook from the effort.

As if that was the real cage.

As if that was the actual cage Lucifer would just keep around.

As if that was the actual cage Luhan would send him across hell for.

Jongdae could feel blood soaking through his shirt, and with a sigh, he gritted his teeth and pulled out the blade, taking a moment to sit down and recuperate. He endured much worse than this, and the stab wound felt nothing like the pain his collar inflicted. After a moment and nothing more, he got up, not liking how his legs shook, and leaned on the wall for support as he staggered onwards, deeper into the room.

If this were such a valuable cage that would give Luhan much more power than he already had, then Lucifer wouldn’t just leave it to rust next to other cages. But none of the cages laid out in the open seemed to be the right one, so Jongdae continued looking.

Different Lus were known to have different tastes. Luhan liked fine art and fine wine. DVB liked instruments. But Lucifer seemed to collect everything, from gold to live creatures that floated in some liquid, trapped by glass.

After Jongdae circled the room many times, he found nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps the demon didn’t know what cage he needed. But he refused to even think of leaving without the one thing that could cut the future years of his punishment away, and looked again. He had to find the cage. He _had_ to.

Perhaps some force, some thing heard Jongdae begging hard enough, or some part of his will forced everything to align properly, that Jongdae tripped over something he didn’t see and triggered a wall to swing open to reveal a completely dark room. Jongdae wouldn’t have known that anything was in here, and for a moment, it could’ve passed as the abyss.

A single candle hovered in the room, floating among the darkness, illuminating nothing. Jongdae stepped inside the room, wary of any traps or springs. But there was nothing, just a lonely silence, a lonely space that the candle failed to fill as it drifted across the room. But as it wobbled from the left side of the room to right, Jongdae noticed a faint outline of something…some shape in the middle of the room.

Jongdae slowly advanced, one hand clutching his stomach, the other stretched out in front of him, and approached the shadow. The candle only illuminated the darkness around the silhouette, making the space around it brighter in order to reveal the darker, much darker shape. Jongdae stayed calm and took his time to observe the shape. With his fingers trembling, he reached out and touched the shadow.

Jongdae moved his hand across the shape in front of him and felt staggered, small columns.

Bars.

He felt bars.

This had to be it.

Jongdae let out a relieved sigh, gripped one bar of the cage for another moment before hoping he was strong enough to push it out of here. Bracing himself, he put both hands on the cage and began pushing it outside of the room, finding it lighter than he thought, and—

“Hello?” a voice said, “Is anyone there?”

Jongdae froze and stopped pushing the cage, too stunned to answer, too stunned to keep moving. He had forgotten that the cage could have been holding something. Or keeping something out.

“Please,” the voice said. Jongdae heard a little tremor that tore the sounds of the single word apart. “Is anyone there? There has to be…There _has_ to be.”

Jongdae stopped, caught off-guard by the word, by the voice. He had never heard such a desperate, lonely plea before.

“Someone is there with me, someone is there with me, someone is here with me,” the voice repeated itself again and again and again. At first, the rhythm was frantic, hurried, but after Jongdae stopped to only listen, the volume decreased every time until that loud voice became a whisper, until that whisper became a hoarse sigh, until that sound became silence.

The voice had given up.

Jongdae was about to brush aside his confusion and start moving the cage again before he heard a sniffle. Then a muffled noise, like someone had been trying to repress too much with shaking shoulders and a hand pressed over their mouth.

Then he heard the crying.

It was a sort of broken sobbing, the type that one would succumb to when no one was around to hear or to see. But Jongdae was, and for some reason, he spoke.

“I’m here,” Jongdae said, though began to push the cage again. “You’re not alone.”

“Hello? Oh… _Oh._ Really? _Really_?” the voice said, before taking a series of deep breaths, “Oh, _thank you_. Please stay. Please stay? Please. _Stay._ You can’t…You can’t leave…Please? I can’t. I can’t be alone anymore. I really can’t.”

“Don’t worry,” Jongdae said, wondering what the fuck Luhan wanted this cage for so badly and most importantly how it could help him take off his collar. He didn’t mention that he needed anything inside it. Just a cage. “You’ll be back with others soon, but it’s just me for now.”

He supposed Lucifer and his demons, too, but Jongdae would rather stay out of everyone’s way now that he had what he came for. One stab wound was enough.

Jongdae pushed the cage out of the room, leaving nothing but the candle to fill the darkness, carefully moved it around the piles and piles of baubles and things, and paused by the door by the gleaming rings. In the meantime, the voice babbled excitedly and talked about everything, spewing words that didn’t make sense at all, tripping over phrases and starting questions before sentences could even be finished.

“What’s your name!” the voice said, “I’m—”

“If you don’t want Lucifer to see us sneaking out, then be quiet,” Jongdae warned. He slid the door open a crack and peeked around. Both sides of the doorway were empty, only flames flickering in the distance.

“Oh, please…no. He can’t see me,” the voice whispered before falling silent.

But apparently the threat of being alone again outweighed the threat of Lucifer, so after Jongdae managed to turn a corner without being spotted, the voice began whispering again.

“I can’t believe someone’s there. You’re really there. After all this time,” the voice said.

“If you don’t be quiet, then I’ll be caught. And if I’m caught, then you’ll be sent back,” Jongdae warned.

“Thank you for being here,” the voice said one last time before quieting down for the moment.

Jongdae patted the iron bars of the cage for good measure before walking down the hallway as stealthily as possible. It was hard enough entering the building, but now he had to safely escape with this cage and something inside that liked to talk. As Jongdae stared at the stairs below that waited for him, he thought it was a pity that Lucifer didn’t have an elevator.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps, demons trudging up the stairs, and Jongdae quickly pushed the cage out of the staircase’s visible range.

“Wait here,” Jongdae whispered, “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Do I have a choice,” the voice said. Jongdae felt the edges of his lips curl up.

Then, he turned, meeting the demons just in time as they were about to step off the last stair, and improvised.

“There you are!” Jongdae said, throwing his hands up in the air, “You’re late! What would Lucifer say?”

The demons froze before horror slowly dripped onto their face and sagged their mouths downwards.

“What?” one of the cried out, “What did we have to do?”

“Is that blood?” the other said, pointing at Jongdae’s shirt.

“Anyways,” Jongdae said, “if you don’t want Lucifer to be angry, then hurry up.”

“Who are you?” one of them asked.

“His interior designer,” Jongdae lied, “It’s time we get rid of all this fire everywhere, right?”

“Right,” one said, hurriedly following Jongdae, “So you really won’t tell him?”

“Only if you won’t tell him how I’m designing this place until it’s finished,” Jongdae said before stopping right at the cage. He hoped the voice would stay silent. “I need your help carrying this work of art down all the stairs to the entry room.”

“Art?” one demon said, “It’s just a black shadow.”

“It’s art and it’s _beautiful_ ,” Jongdae said, “and something has to offset all that horrid fire in the entry room. Lucifer was very stubborn about that. ‘Whatever you do, don’t touch the fire in the front. It’s meant to scare visitors,’ he told me. What a guy.”

“You want us to carry this down all the stairs?” the demon asked, staring down at all the space below them.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, “Lucifer is expecting everything done in an hour, so you better hurry. Like I said, you’re late. Do you want him to string you up by your b—”

“Okay, okay!” the other demon cried out. The two of them picked up the cage a little too roughly and held it too close to the railing, banging it every now and then.

“Be careful,” Jongdae said, “It’s fragile, and I’ll skin you if you drop it.”

The demons promised to handle it carefully.

Down the winding fiery stairs they went, and Jongdae walked first, cautiously checking every floor just in case Lucifer would be there. He had never met the demon in person, and he didn’t feel like today would be a good day to do so.

“Hang on, we’re almost there,” Jongdae said as they exited the fifth flight of stairs.

“Thanks,” the demons said.

“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you,” Jongdae said. The cage hummed.

Soon enough, they reached the ground floor, and Jongdae dismissed the two other demons in case they’d attract more attention than he wanted. The distance from here to the front doors wasn’t that long, so Jongdae took a moment to breathe before placing his hands on the bars of the cage. Just as he was about to start pushing, he heard voices coming from one of the rooms next to the stairway.

“Lucifer, you have an appointment with your interior designer now,” a demon said. Lucifer? Jongdae refused to listen to the way his heart had started pounding in his chest, and stared at the door the voices came from. If he pushed the cage, would it scrape on the ground? Would it make a noise loud enough for them to be caught?

“Yes, yes. I wanted to ask how to add more fire without making it seem too cluttered,” a smooth voice answered.

Without giving himself time to panic, Jongdae pushed the cage as fast as he could towards the front doors, hoping the way it screeched against the floor wasn’t as loud as he hoped.

“Oh no,” the voice said, starting to breathe rapidly again, “I can’t go back. _Please_.”

“I’m _trying_ ,” Jongdae hissed, and continued to push the cage as quickly as he could. Within seconds, they were halfway to the front door now.

“Hm. Did you hear that?” Lucifer’s voice sounded just as Jongdae approached the front door, “What’s going on outside?”

Jongdae, despite his best attempts to not do so, looked back and saw the doorknob of the room turning. He frantically summoned the last bits of his strength and pushed the cage through the front door as fast as he could before slamming the door behind him and fighting to calm his racing heartbeat.

“Oh, it’s you again,” the guard said as he saw Jongdae, heaving chest and all, “Did you finish the job?”

“No,” Jongdae said, gripping the bars of the cage tightly through the curtain. “Lucifer sent me back for some paint templates. I’ll send an assistant back with them.”

“If he paints everything red, I’m quitting,” the other demon shook his head before looking at the cage, “What’s with that?”

“Art,” Jongdae said, “I’m swapping it for a different statue he might like.”

“Alright,” the demon said. The guards seemed satisfied, so Jongdae relaxed slightly and was just about to leave. But before he could even take a step forwards, another demon approached, demanding entrance.

“I’m here to see Lucifer. He asked for an interior designer,” the demon said.

Fuck.

“What?” one of the guards said, “That’s impossible. He’s already seen an interior designer.”

“That’s ridiculous,” the demon shook his head, “I’m the only designer he wanted. He’s only consulted with me for the past few centuries.”

“No,” Jongdae said, “I am?”

The demon spluttered and pointed a finger at Jongdae.

“Now listen here…I did not travel all the way from Luis’ mansion to Lucifer’s own home to be disrespected and turned away like this,” the demon said.

Jongdae was ready to fight his way out if he had to, but for once, luck was on his side as the guards stepped forwards and acted before he could even pull out his dagger.

“Lucifer has a holding cell for imposters like you,” one of the guards said, gripping the designer’s arm tightly, “You can wait it out there while we call for him.”

“See you. I hope I never come back here ever again, but it’s been real,” Jongdae said. The guards echoed similar sentiments and pulled the livid designer inside.

Jongdae continued pushing the cage through the gates that swung open readily for him now and across the bridge until he returned to the fields where the darkness could conceal them from Lucifer. With a sigh, he stopped and leaned against the cage. Demons healed faster than humans, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel pain. Jongdae tried to picture Luhan’s castle in his mind now, and sure enough, the faint outlines of the castle began to form. But they disappeared after the voice spoke.

“Are we all alone now?” the voice spoke again.

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, “You’re out of Lucifer’s place. How does it feel?”

“Really? _Really?_ Oh…It feels like flying,” the voice said, suddenly letting out a yell, “Like I’m thousands of feet in the air, and I’m _safe_.”

Jongdae didn’t know how being caged could feel like flying, but he didn’t ask, didn’t want to dim the voice’s brightness.

“Can you please remove the curtains away? I want to see everything I missed,” the voice said.

Jongdae hesitated, and for a moment, he was tempted to do what the voice wished. But he still refrained in case whatever was inside had sharp limbs to harm him with or could charm and trick him into giving up the cage. No, Luhan wanted the cage, and Jongdae would deliver the cage intact and in its complete form so he could have a chance at freedom.

“I can’t,” Jongdae said, “Those aren’t part of my orders, and it’s easier to hide you like this.”

“What are your orders?” the voice said, “Did someone up there send you to save me?”

“Up where?” Jongdae said. “No, I was told to steal Lucifer’s cage.”

“Oh,” the voice slowly said, letting out a sigh, “I guess no one remembers me. It’s been a long time.”

Before Jongdae could ask, the voice spoke again.

“Why are you all alone?” the voice asked, “Isn’t there anyone else out there except for you? Not that I have any problems with you. I love your presence very much.”

Love? Jongdae didn’t hear that word very often around here and was amused to see how the voice threw it around so eagerly. So easily.

“It’s just me right now,” Jongdae said, “I came here alone, and I’m going back alone.”

“You’re not alone,” the voice said. Maybe it was just imagination, but he could hear the grin, the pure delight. “I’m not either.”

Jongdae paused for a second, leaning against the cage with a wince and a sharp inhale.

“You’re still there, right?” the voice said after a while.

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, pushing it again, “I just needed a short break. This stab wound is taking its toll.”

“Oh no! I’m sorry to hear that. Are you okay?” the voice asked.

Jongdae didn’t know how to answer, so he said nothing. The voice continued to fill the silence in the meantime.

“I could help make you feel better if you just lifted the curtain. But really. Are you okay? I hope it wasn’t a deep wound,” the voice said.

“I’ve really never been asked that question in a long time,” Jongdae admitted, not knowing what else to say. Demons never asked if they were fine. Stab wounds were scratches. Severed limbs grew back. Everyone lived in hell, so there was no time to be weak. Even if some demons died, no one mourned. At least publicly. Jongdae had never known anyone who had died and was reborn before, and he had never physically died yet. But he knew that from the fire they were born, and from the fire they’d be born again after to ashes they turned.

“What! Really?” the voice asked, “Then I’ll ask it again. Are you okay?”

Whatever was inside the cage could not be a demon. That much Jongdae could guess from the genuine concern that shone through the voice’s words.

“I’ve had worse,” Jongdae said, resisting the urge to try and rip the collar from his neck again, “I just wish I saw it coming…I knew that demon was up to no good, but I wasn’t fast enough.”

“Oh. Demons,” the voice said.

“You must think we’re the worst,” Jongdae said.

Luhan’s castle was nowhere in sight, but Jongdae didn’t mind pushing the cage deeper and deeper into hell. It was better to be further away from Lucifer anyways. He ignored the brush of the dead against his skin and looked upwards as he walked, staring at the red moon. It was just a sliver today, like someone had cut the sky and let it bleed.

“No, no,” the voice said, a little louder, “I’ve been alone for millions of years…a demon kept me down there. But you can’t all be bad. That’d be wrong of anyone to assume.”

“Well, if we weren’t the worst, we wouldn’t be here, you know. Hell,” Jongdae said.

He braced himself for the immediate cry, the wail of _you’re lying! I can’t be in hell!_ that he heard every time he watched the line with Luhan. But there was none. Just a deep breath in, a deep breath out.

“Ah,” the voice said, “I’ve ben trapped in this suffocating darkness for so long I forgot where I truly was. Hell.”

The voice sounded like how Luhan looked when he trudged towards the throne room for more judgment with his hands in his pockets and his wings slightly drooping.

“You’re not missing much,” Jongdae said, “Luhan redecorated hell when he ascended the throne. There’s more darkness now.”

“Luhan?” the voice asked, “When I was first taken, there was only Lucifer.”

“Lucifer?” Jongdae said, stopping in his tracks to consider what the voice had said, “Then you really have been here since the beginning. Millions of years have passed. Did you really have to spend it all in a cage? Surely he let you out…whatever you are. Whoever you are.”

“I wish,” the voice said after a sigh, “It’s been dark. And lonely. You’re the first person who’s talked to me since.” 

Jongdae thought of what it must’ve been like, to sit in a suffocating darkness, caged into a solitary existence. With a shiver, he related more than he realized, even if his cage was not like this one. 

“Then,” Jongdae said as he gazed at the fire streaked sky above him, “I’ll talk to you again. And again. And again. Until you tire of my voice and miss the isolation.”

The voice laughed, the sparkling sound causing Jongdae to stand up straighter and take a sharp inhale, feeling strangely affected.

“Go on,” the voice said. Jongdae hoped that whatever was inside the cage was smiling because he had begun to smile, too. “You could speak until eternity dies, and even then I could never be tired of you.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Maybe the others were right to worry. Maybe Jongdae would return from these parts of hell years and years later, finding that a thousand years had passed. Maybe if he waited long enough out here, his punishment would be over.

Every time Jongdae began to envision Luhan’s castle in front of him, he became distracted before it could fully take form. He had a purpose when he travelled to Lucifer’s place. He had freedom, the collar right on his mind, so it was easy for him to walk straight through hell and knock on Lucifer’s front door. But now, the fire that tore up the horizon was the only thing Jongdae could see in the distance.

Now he had the cage.

And a companion.

Who liked to talk.

If it had been any other demon, Jongdae would have threatened to sew their lips together, but he let the voice speak as much as they wanted. He didn’t mind.

“If you’re not going to take off this covering, can you please describe where we’re going now?” the voice said, once again erasing the outlines of Luhan’s castle in the distance.

“It just looks the same. Everything does,” Jongdae said as he kept pushing the cage forwards. Luckily it wasn’t heavy at all. “But we’re in the fields of death right now.”

“How does it look?” the voice said.

“Black,” Jongdae said, “Dead people are everywhere, but the darkness conceals them. You’re not missing much.”

“That can’t be it. That can’t be all there is. Are you sure?” the voice asked after a pause. These questions were familiar, but the tone in which they were asked were not.

Jongdae looked around, as if this time he’d notice a different patch of darkness he somehow missed before.

“I guess there’s the sky. It looks like it’s on fire…as if there wasn’t enough fire here already,” Jongdae said.

“Fire! In the sky? That’s beautiful,” the voice said, stretching the syllables of his words as he admired what he could not see.

Jongdae looked up at the sky and thought maybe it was. He remembered saying something like that when they were younger, much younger. Luhan had told him how he was going to change and redesign hell when he assumed the throne. When he did change it, everything was already different then, and Jongdae couldn’t say those things out loud anymore.

“If you have any suggestions on how to change how hell is, tell Luhan,” Jongdae said, “He was hoping to inspire fear, but I guess from the way you’re speaking, he failed.”

“Luhan…Tell me about him?” the voice said.

If they had time and if Jongdae was not rushing to bring this cage back as soon as possible, then he would’ve stopped and told the voice about the times when they were children, mere babies running around the castle wreaking havoc. That Luhan clung to Jongdae more than Jongdae clung to Luhan, and stabbed anyone who even breathed oddly in Jongdae’s direction. The Luhan he was bringing the cage to now was wearied by time, angry at eternity, and turned his back every time Jongdae was in pain. This was how things were now and had been for the past five hundred years since the war.

“He’s the demon that currently rules hell,” Jongdae said instead, “He’s the one that redecorated hell to look like this. The further away from his castle you stray, the more completely submerged in death you are. It’s like drowning in darkness.”

“Does he have wings,” the voice quietly asked, “The black ones like Lucifer?”

“Yeah,” Jongdae said, “All the Lus do.”

The voice suddenly started to breathe faster and faster until Jongdae stopped in his tracks again.

“Hey…Are you okay?” Jongdae asked, repeating what he had been asked. He thought about sticking his hands inside the bars to give a single comforting pat, but thought of the possibility that whatever was inside could rip his hand off and refrained.

“You can’t take me back,” the voice said after taking a few quick, sharp inhales, “Please. Don’t take me back to Lucifer.”

Jongdae paused, listening to the voice breathe quickly. This time, he pushed his hand an inch through the bars of the cage, but felt nothing but the fabric on the curtain on his hands. He withdrew his hand and held the bars firmly.

“Believe me. I won’t,” Jongdae said, pushing the cage again, “I’m taking you back to Luhan. It’s what he wants.”

And what Jongdae needed, too.

The voice finally calmed down after a short moment, and let out a final, shaky sigh.

“What do you want?” the voice asked.

Jongdae touched the cold metal of his collar, and remained silent. There was only one thing he wanted, but he didn’t like speaking about it, so he only continued pushing, all while ignoring the cold hands of the dead that occasionally brushed against him.

The voice didn’t push Jongdae for answers he didn’t want to give, but also didn’t give up asking question after question. Jongdae answered some and let others fall into silence.

“You ask a lot of questions,” Jongdae finally said.

“You would, too, if you were alone since nearly the beginning of time,” the voice answered, “I have to make sure I’m…not alone anymore. Your voice reassures me, you know? Sorry if the questions bother you.”

“It’s nothing to be sorry for,” Jongdae said, “There are no sorries in Luhan’s hell.”

“Then I’ll ask another question,” the voice said, “What’s out there now?”

“Just black. Again,” Jongdae said, “But there’s a sliver of light if I raise my chin, so it doesn’t feel like I’m completely suffocating.”

“How do you deal with it? How do the dead deal with it? If this is all that’s left for them?” the voice asked.

“Do they have a choice? They’re dead,” Jongdae said.

“That’s lonely,” the voice said.

“Yeah. It is,” Jongdae admitted, “Luhan complains about how this place is too dim all the time, but he never does anything about it. If he wanted, he could’ve created a giant sun.”

That would’ve been something. There had been a Lu before Jongdae’s time who hung five suns in the sky, but what was the point if they were all so small, so far away?

“If…you take off the curtains, I can light the way if you want more than just a sliver of a moonbeam here,” the voice said.

“Light?” Jongdae said, not willing to believe, “In here?”

If Luhan wanted more light, then there would be more light. But this was hell, his darkness, so if the fields were not meant to be illuminated, then they would never be.

“Yes,” the voice said before urgently pressing on, “If not for you, then at least…for me? I want to see the fiery sky, all this new darkness you told me about, and you. Can’t I see you, too?”

Jongdae paused. He had the cage, so removing the covering wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize how he brought it back. Luhan had asked for the cage, not the curtains. Jongdae found himself slowly grasping the fabric and quickly pulled it off before he could change his mind. He let out a gasp as a bright, gleaming light suddenly lit up a large radius of the field.

It was neither the golden, shining wings nor the beautiful face he saw first.

It was how the cage was too small, how the creature’s body was pressed uncomfortably against the bars. The way that the cage looked too small, but not too small that whoever was inside couldn’t breathe, but not too big that he could pretend he was free.

In darkness everyone looked the same, but in this light, Jongdae still recognized and saw that familiar expression that flickered back and forth between muted defeat and faint desperation. That loneliness.

Without any further hesitation, Jongdae all but ripped open the door to the cage and held out his hand.


	2. Chapter 2

“You…you didn’t tell me you were an angel,” Jongdae said, staring at the golden light even though it began to hurt his eyes. This was an angel, right? There was no way…no way a light that shone this bright could have been born in a place like this. The angel struggled to move his arm in the cramped space, but Jongdae still kept his hand stretched out and waited. When he felt a cold hand touch his, Jongdae began to gently pull him out.

“You didn’t tell me you were this beautiful,” the angel said, eyes only on Jongdae as he grasped his hand, looking as if Jongdae was the light himself. “Are your lips naturally curled up like that? They’re so cute.”

Jongdae had to physically force the corners of his lips to stop stretching upwards so quickly.

He failed.

The angel tried his best to move his wings, but they only shifted slightly against the metal bars of the cage. Jongdae bent down, reaching his hand into the cage, slowly pulling out the angel’s legs and shifting his body around until he could move all on his own. The angel took a deep breath, slowly slid his leg out of the door and put his foot on the floor, prepared to stand, prepared to leave his cage for the first time since forever. Jongdae held out his hand again and waited.

It was overwhelming, the way Jongdae’s heart clenched when he saw the way the angel looked up at him with wide, wide eyes. It was reflexive, the way Jongdae’s grasp tightened when the angel finally slipped his hand in his as he stood up. It was just right, the way Jongdae caught the angel as he tried to stand on both legs before he wobbled and almost fell forwards. If it had been any other demon, Jongdae would’ve only stood there, both hands behind his back, and watched as they fell without even moving a finger.

“Thank you,” the angel said, gripping Jongdae tightly as he tried to stand on numb legs, “For that. For everything. And for being kind.”

“I’m a demon,” Jongdae said, “We’re not kind.”

“If you say so,” the angel shrugged, a beautiful smile spreading across his lips. Jongdae stared, unable to say anything as he felt the angel clutch his arm tighter. He would have liked to say he reluctantly held the angel to steady him, but it was not as reluctant as he thought.

“I haven’t stood for so long,” the angel said before turning back to look at his wings, “I haven’t flown since forever either.”

“Can you stand on your own now?” Jongdae asked. It was too late to avert his gaze, and he was sure that if he looked away now, he’d be blind. So he kept staring, kept his eyes burning, kept his hands over the angel to steady him.

“I don’t know,” the angel said, pressing his lips together.

“Try,” Jongdae said.

But the angel didn’t let go, so Jongdae slowly slipped away first and took a step back. The angel loosened his grasp on Jongdae’s arms, but as soon as he let go completely, he wobbled forwards.

“I guess not,” Jongdae said, catching the angel again before he could fall.

“I’ve fluttered my wings more at least,” the angel said, “As best as I could given the constraints. Maybe they work better.”

Before the angel’s legs gave out, he fluttered his wings and took off. Shrinking back into the darkness, Jongdae tilted his chin upwards to watch a golden light streak across the dark sky. This time, he put a hand above his eyes to shield himself from the light as he watched. The angel continued to fly higher and higher until he could have been a single, lonely star in the sky.

Hell was forever, but that didn’t stop everyone from leaving. Eternity didn’t guarantee the same people would stay forever. Minor demons had to leave hell, tasked with bringing back the souls of those tried to cheat death on Earth. The Lus left their throne when their time to rule hell was finally over. Demons left each other because that was what they did. Or at least that’s what they thought.

So Jongdae expected the angel to leave now with nothing holding him back and promised himself he would watch only a second more before continuing back to Luhan’s castle. Luhan had asked Jongdae for the cage and only the cage, never mentioning anything more, so Jongdae didn’t have the heart to hunt the angel down and let him fly. Free.

But suddenly, the golden light began rapidly falling from the sky like a shooting star violently pushed towards the ground, and Jongdae soon saw erratically flapping wings that only just barely kept the angel from falling completely. The angel struggled to fly straight, to fly at all, and every few moments, he would rise up in the air before falling.

Rise and fall.

Rise and fall.

Rise and –

Jongdae felt his feet move without thinking, and he ran towards the light, his gaze on the horizon as he reached his arms out. Eyes up, heart beating wildly, he made sure he was positioned properly before catching the angel.

“Thank you,” the angel breathlessly said, loosely slipping his arms around Jongdae’s neck, “I guess I can’t fly properly either.”

Jongdae stared. He forgot he had left the cage a few meters behind him, unguarded against the dead, and just. Stared. The angel’s black hair was messily windswept from the flying, his cheeks were flushed pink, and his lips looked so…soft. Jongdae didn’t know how someone could look like _this_ after spending an eternity in a cage, but he didn’t ask.

“Be careful,” Jongdae finally said, putting the angel back down on the ground. The angel grabbed Jongdae’s arm to steady himself.

“That’s what being squeezed into a cage for millions of years will do to you,” the angel shook his head.

Jongdae waited for the angel to ask him how he could leave, how to get out of hell and return to heaven where he belonged. He waited for the angel to thank him one last time before flying off into the distance. And he waited for the angel to leave.

But he didn’t.

All the angel did was smile and take a step every time Jongdae took a step, follow Jongdae every time he plunged deeper into the suffocating darkness, light up that darkness with his smile, with his wings. And stay.

“Where are you going now? Back to Luhan?” he asked as Jongdae began walking back to where he thought he left the cage. It would have been hopeless to find it in any other circumstance, but luckily the angel’s wings were bright enough to illuminate the area around them.

“Yes. The cage is all we need,” Jongdae said, glancing at the angel before adding, “So don’t worry. Luhan isn’t like the other Lus anyways.”

The angel was silent.

“I’ll believe you,” he simply said. And that was that.

Jongdae finally found the cage where he had left it and began pushing it with one hand since the angel was holding his other. It would have taken them even longer to walk back like this, so Jongdae stood up straight again and turned.

“May I have my other arm?” Jongdae asked.

“Oh, yes. Sorry,” the angel said, letting go for a second before putting his hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.

Jongdae supposed this was as good as he was going to get, so he began pushing with both hands and let the angel hover over him.

“Wait!” the angel said just as Jongdae was about to take another step.

“What is it?” Jongdae asked, pausing to turn around. This was when he’d ask how to leave, right?

“What’s your name?” the angel asked instead.

“Yours first,” Jongdae said.

“Sehun,” the angel smiled, “Now you.”

Sehun.

If possible, his smile lit up his whole expression even more, his wings fluttering slightly, making the darkness bend and dance. The fires illuminated the darkness in hell, but Jongdae had never seen such a light this bright. This beautiful.

Sehun.

“Jongdae,” the demon said at last.

Sehun clapped his hands together and let out a delighted _oh!_

Jongdae felt something dangerous rise in his chest and thought to himself _oh_.

A name was a dangerous thing to know. It all started with a name. But if Jongdae was honest to himself, it started sooner than that. Much sooner.

“Jongdae! I love it!” Sehun let out a pleasant laugh, all but bouncing on his toes. The sound reverberated into Jongdae’s chest, and suddenly Jongdae needed to lean on the cage for a moment to catch his breath.

“It’s just a name,” Jongdae said, though couldn’t help himself and let out a small smile in return.

“It’s _your_ name,” Sehun said. Jongdae didn’t know how it was possible, but so much golden glimmer echoed through Sehun’s voice. “So I love it.”

Love?

And, as if Jongdae could not be rendered anymore speechless, Sehun continued.

"It seems I can’t walk or fly well, so I’ll come with you. If Luhan isn’t like Lucifer, then I’ll survive. And if you’re there, then I’ll be fine,” Sehun said, “Which way is it?”

Jongdae stared and tilted his head, struggling to process Sehun’s words.

“You’re coming with me?” Jongdae asked, “Don’t you want to go back to where you left? Where you came from?”

Sehun wasn’t leaving? Wasn’t fleeing when it should have and would have been the first instinct to anyone trapped like that…hurt like that?

“I’m not in a rush,” Sehun shrugged, “I’ll stick around and see hell. Anything’s better than that cage anyways.”

“I understand,” Jongdae said, feeling the cold iron against his throat slowly strangle him as he spoke.

“So which way is it?” Sehun asked, looking around.

“You have to picture where you want to go in hell,” Jongdae said, “Picture it and don’t let go. Otherwise you’ll be lost and walking through infinity forever. All these fields of darkness forever. All these dead forever.”

Just because demons were not dead didn’t mean that they were immune to hell’s tricks. Many had been lost out here, those too distracted to focus on where they were going, those too forgetful to remember where they were supposed to return. Sometimes there were those who got lost on purpose. Eternity was overwhelming, and it was easier to gently suffocate themselves in darkness until they forgot everything.

“But it’s not completely dark at least,” Sehun said, tilting his chin up and raising his eyes to the horizon, “The sky…oh it’s beautiful! Look at those streaks of fire across it! And the moon, _oh…_ Jongdae it’s just how I pictured it when you described it to me. Wow. How stunning _._ ”

The endless fire? Beautiful? The moon…stunning? Perhaps Sehun said that because he had only lived in darkness, but Jongdae had lived years and years in this hell, so the sky was only the sky, and the moon was only the moon.

“My wings can light the way for you, too, if you’re worried about getting lost. It’ll be an easy journey back,” Sehun said.

Jongdae was not worried about coming back, but Sehun’s enthusiasm was contagious, and it inspired him to push the cage forwards. The curtain had been draped over his shoulder, but it began to fall and drag at his feet. Sehun offered to carry it and swung it over his shoulder. Against the glow of Sehun’s wings, the curtain seemed to be made of the night, eternal night, like a piece of the sky ripped away, stitched with threads spun from the abyss. It seemed to be the only thing capable of slightly dimming Sehun’s wings.

With the darkness kept at bay, for the first time, the dead souls were visible around them.

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” Jongdae said, gazing uneasily at the dead that Sehun’s wings illuminated. They watched curiously with their deep-socketed eyes, bony hands clutching at their haunted, hallow faces as Sehun’s wings lit up the space.

“I’m sure they won’t hurt us,” Sehun said.

Most of the dead kept their distance, but they encircled them uncomfortably. One or two stepped out from the circle and crowded closer to them.

“I don’t know about that,” Jongdae said, “You can’t even trust the dead to stay in their place.”

As if on cue, one of the dead stepped closer before hurtling himself in Sehun’s direction, teeth bared, countenance twisted, fingers curled into claws. Jongdae let go of the cage and easily pushed the dead away without even stepping out of place. Perhaps they were curious by the light. Perhaps they were afraid. Maybe they were jealous. Maybe it reminded them of some things, some memories they didn’t want to remember. Maybe it reminded them of what they couldn’t have.

See,” Jongdae said, dropping his fist but still looking around warily, “You can’t trust the dead.”

“If you can’t trust the dead, then how can you trust anyone?” Sehun asked, “They dead are dead. It’s not like they can do anything. Right?”

“Don’t trust anything down here,” Jongdae said, pushing away another dead person that hurtled itself at Sehun. That seemed to discourage the rest, and they all slowly stepped away, keeping a distance big enough for Jongdae to start pushing the cage forwards again, but small enough for him to still be on guard.

“If you say so,” Sehun hummed, though still clung onto Jongdae.

Onwards they walked, and Jongdae guessed time really had passed by quicker than he thought because his wound hadn’t pained him much since he had left the castle.

Occasionally, another dead soul would emerge from the crowd, but no one had seemed threatening yet. A few reached out towards Sehun, but before they could touch him, Jongdae batted their hands away.

“They’re usually never like this,” Jongdae said, glaring at the dead. He hoped the red glow of his eyes punctured through the thick darkness so they could all see what he felt. “But it’s not like I can tell anyways since I’ve never seen them up close like this…so close to the light.”

“What are their names? Do you know them all?” Sehun asked him. He seemed unfazed by the dead, never once flinching or screaming when one made a sudden move or got too close.

“No one knows them all except the Lus. I’m sure if you ask Luhan, he can name everyone from memory. It’s what he’s burdened with. Remembering,” Jongdae said.

“What do demons do here?” Sehun asked, “You look after the dead, right?”

“Minor demons visit earth to take back those who try to cheat death,” Jongdae said, “demons like me stay and…I wouldn’t say look after, but we do have dead people that we’re responsible for.”

“Oh! Like a guardian angel?” Sehun asked, “That’s me. I haven’t had the chance to visit earth and guard a living human, but I looked after the dead back then.”

Of course he was. Of course he did.

“No,” Jongdae said, “in the other times, these demons would make sure their hell experience was as terrible as possible. Luhan doesn’t have the energy to police all that, so we’re just…here. There’s a demon I know who visits her dead often, but most demons only visit a few times to check on them.”

“How often do you go?” Sehun asked.

“I don't anymore,” Jongdae said, keeping his eyes forwards and his expression carefully guarded, “They were taken away from me.”

He glanced at Sehun, noticed his mouth opening, and immediately shifted the attention away.

“Why are you even here?” Jongdae said, “What happened so that someone like you was stuck here?”

Sehun’s expression fell for a second, and Jongdae almost regretted asking.

“It wasn’t my choice,” Sehun softly said in such a manner that made Jongdae want to want to stab whoever forced Sehun down here.

“When I was younger, I—” Sehun began to say before a dead soul launched themselves towards them with a wail. Jongdae let go of the cage and leapt out to defend, but all of the sudden, he felt a sharp, shooting rush of pain, not from the collar, but from where he had been stabbed, and shocked, he crumpled to his knees.

Perhaps he had only remembered the pain now. He groaned, pressing a hand on his stomach. When he glanced briefly at his hand, he saw blood.

But the dead had lunged past Jongdae and reached out towards Sehun with grabbing hands.

“Excuse me,” Sehun said, pushing the dead out of the way before hurrying over to Jongdae. But another one, emboldened, started advancing. Sehun didn’t mind them, turning back to Jongdae.

“Are you all right?” Sehun asked.

Jongdae, aware of what was behind Sehun, quickly stood up and pushed the soul out of the way. The shadows around him intensified, his eyes glowed even redder, and the dead fled. The rest silently remained, crowding around them watching with the same, blank stare.

Sehun placed a hand on him, but just as Jongdae was about to answer, the pain dulled and became bearable.

“I’m…fine now,” Jongdae said, “My stab wound started hurting again, but now it’s fine.”

“Oh,” Sehun said, gripping Jongdae tightly, pulling him into an embrace, “Why didn’t you tell me you were still hurt? I would’ve never let go.”

“Let go?” Jongdae said, slowly reaching with his clean hand to pat Sehun’s back.

“Angels can take away anyone’s pain if they touch them,” Sehun said, releasing Jongdae for a second, though keeping his hand on Jongdae’s shoulder.

Jongdae shrugged his arm away and looked down.

“It’s not worth it,” Jongdae said, keeping his head down as he mumbled, trying not to sound as affected when the pain abruptly returned, “It’s just a stab wound.”

“But Jongdae,” Sehun said, already reaching out to touch him again, to hold him again, to heal him again, “You shouldn’t suffer any pain. Just hold onto me, and it will be fine.”

Jongdae was struck. They hadn’t known each other for that long, and yet Sehun would do this for him? Were all angels like this? But Lucifer had been an angel once, so that couldn’t be true. This was Sehun, so Jongdae dropped his bloodstained hand to his side and hesitantly reached forwards with his other hand. This was Sehun, so Jongdae was not afraid even though he had let go of the cage and any dead could snatch it up and steal it away. This was Sehun, so Jongdae felt his heart freeze when Sehun let out a sigh and pressed himself closer to Jongdae’s body.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“Is there anything you want to see here? Anything you want to do?” Jongdae asked as they continued onwards.

Sehun had suggested walking while holding hands so he could also help Jongdae push the cage and heal him at the same time. Jongdae was not opposed to the idea, and soon they found themselves walking side by side, hand in hand with the cage in front of them. Jongdae watched the horizon through the bars of the cage, though even if he couldn’t see Luhan’s castle yet, he was not worried.

“Want?” Sehun asked, stopping to readjust the black curtain that was threatening to slip off of his shoulders.

“You’ve helped me so much,” Jongdae said, and as the wound continued to heal, the pain lessened and lessened even more. He was sure that if he checked now, it would only look like a scratch. “It’s only right I help you with something, too.”

Demons did not like feeling indebted. Favors were given, favors were returned. That’s how it was. But Jongdae wasn’t offering to not just feel indebted to Sehun.

“It’s nothing,” Sehun said, “I love helping you.”

There was that word again.

Jongdae didn’t know how Sehun could throw it around so easily. Did he really love this much? Did he really love everything? Was there nothing he hated?

“Still,” Jongdae said, “I’m sure you must need a way back to heaven, right? If that, then I can—”

“Hell!” Sehun said, “Can you give me a tour of hell?”

He let go of the cage to cling to Jongdae who had burst out into laughter, though it was not because he thought Sehun’s idea was funny. It was only because he realized he was growing so dangerously fond.

“I have to take this back,” Jongdae said, gesturing at the cage, “Luhan needs it. Can you wait until after?”

And he did, too.

“Can we do it now? Please?” Sehun asked, “It won’t take long…just a really brief tour. I’ll even fly you around to make it faster.”

Jongdae hesitated. He didn’t want to spend a second longer in this collar, but he took one look at the way Sehun’s lower lip had dropped out into a pout and realized the decision was already made for him.

“I’ll show you the highlights,” Jongdae said with a sigh, “But that’s all. After that, I really do have to get this cage back to Luhan.”

Sehun let out a sparkling laugh and grasped Jongdae’s shoulders, twirling him around as he thanked him again and again and again. Jongdae was dazed, dizzy from the circular motion, and when he blinked, he thought he saw a star.

“Hell, hell, hell!” Sehun cheered in a singsong voice, “Let’s see hell!”

“I don’t understand why you’re so happy,” Jongdae laughed, letting Sehun continue twirling him around, “Every dead person I’ve met has always said the opposite.”

“Ah,” Sehun said, suddenly standing still, “But when you’ve been where I’ve been, this hell out here…is nothing to complain about.”

Jongdae was about to ask him what he meant before Sehun hastily slipped the smile back on his face.

“So where to first? What’s to see here?” Sehun asked.

“Here,” Jongdae said, stretching out his hand, “is darkness.”

“And over here,” Jongdae said, turning around and pointing in a different direction, “is…more darkness.”

“Amazing,” Sehun said before pointing upwards, “Why is the moon red? Why is the sky on fire?”

“Luhan,” Jongdae said, “he designed it like that. He always had to have a little dramatic touch, a little artistic flair to everything. The other Lus before him always designed it differently. When Luhan’s father ruled hell, the fields were all underwater, and the dead were perpetually floundering, always feeling like they were drowning.”

“Well,” Sehun said, staring up at the moon, “I think Luhan did a very nice job with the sky. Everything’s beautiful.”

“That’s the first time I ever heard someone call hell that,” Jongdae shook his head, leaning on the cage.

“Well what do you think of it then?” Sehun asked, tilting his head upwards. There were no stars in the sky, but from the way Sehun looked at the moon, it must have been because they had all fled the sky to go dance in his eyes.

“I think…it’s just where I live. I see it every day, so there’s nothing I hate. There’s nothing to especially love either,” Jongdae shrugged, “It’s just hell.”

“At least you have so much space to move,” Sehun said, dropping the bars of the cage to stretch an arm around, “I would’ve done anything to stretch my body like this. That cage was my hell.”

Jongdae would have wanted to continue onwards instead of stopping every now and then, but he let Sehun take a break and simply watched him as he breathed in the air and sighed. The dead around them kept their distance, but some of them mimicked Sehun, and a chorus of sighs echoed and rippled through the darkness. It could almost pass for a soft breeze of wind.

“Don’t worry. After Luhan is done with that cage for whatever he needs it for, I’ll let you destroy it however you want. Throw it off a cliff into the abyss. Set it on fire. Break it apart with your bare hands,” Jongdae said, thinking of how horrible it must’ve been for Sehun. How lonely it must have been.

“Okay,” Sehun smiled. Jongdae had to change the conversation before he was temped to promise Sehun anything else. It would have been too easy to promise him eternity, but eternity was not anyone’s to promise.

“So. Hell,” Jongdae said as they continued onwards, “There are different places to be sent here if you’re a dead soul. We’re in the fields right now. It doesn’t hurt to be here, but you wander forever in the darkness with everyone else. If your wings didn’t shine this brightly, you couldn’t really have seen anything.”

“Who ends up here?” Sehun asked, looking around at the dead. They all had different faces but all wore the same gaunt look, the same exhausted expression, as if the weight of all their sins and regrets had physically dragged their faces downwards.

“Those who aren’t good enough for heaven but aren’t bad enough to be tortured for the rest of eternity,” Jongdae said.

“Is this purgatory then?” Sehun asked, continuing to stare, “Can they leave if they’re sorry?”

“No,” Jongdae said, “This is hell, and hell is no place for apology. Luhan has only one rule, and it’s not to be sorry.”

“But if they’re sorry and if they spent enough time reflecting, can’t they leave? Are they really stuck forever?” Sehun asked.

“There are rumors,” Jongdae slowly said, “Rumors that if a dead person thinks hard enough, wants forgiveness badly enough, and really reflects on what they’ve done in their life long enough, then they can go to purgatory. But no one’s been there, so no one knows if that’s true.”

Sehun fell silent, and Jongdae continued walking onwards. The silence allowed Jongdae to concentrate on Luhan’s castle, and for the first time since he had left Lucifer’s home, he could picture the faint outlines of where he needed to go. They could have reached home in no time by now.

But Jongdae remembered what he promised and shifted his attention to a different part of hell. He thought of what there was, and there really was nothing. But there was a part of hell that not many could visit because they didn’t know of its existence, so he kept the image in his mind, kept his desire to show it to Sehun, and thought, urged hell to take them there, to show it to them.

Within seconds, a grove of shining lights appeared in the distance, causing Sehun to gasp. When they were close enough, they could see berries and branches sprouting from trees that almost shone as bright as Sehun’s wings. Almost. They were the only things that could almost compare.

When Luhan was younger, he had snuck out of his father’s castle, taking Jongdae along with him. The two of them had swum tirelessly through the watery fields, oceans leagues deep back then, just because Luhan’s father told him there was no way he could go there and survive. Luhan had wanted to do it since he was Luhan.

Jongdae had almost drowned.

There was only so much treading he could take, and if Luhan weren’t with him, he would have given up and started drowning. So Luhan wished hard enough, bent hell even though it was not yet his time to rule, and created a dry patch of land for them to rest on. As they laid side beside, dripping wet, cold, and exhausted, these golden trees had begun to sprout around them. If anyone asked Luhan why there were glimmering trees in the middle of hell now, he would’ve scoffed and said hell was too dim so he wanted some light. 

Here they still stood, years and years later.

“Are you all healed?” Sehun asked, letting go of the cage first, “Is your wound fine?”

Jongdae lifted his shirt up, and sure enough, only a thin scar remained.

“Oh, I’m so glad,” Sehun smiled, and finally, he let go of Jongdae and walked into the small grove to look around. Jongdae was right. These glimmering trees had nothing on Sehun’s wings.

“So,” Jongdae said, crossing his arms as he waited for Sehun. He hadn’t seen these groves in a long time, but he still kept his gaze on Sehun. Only Sehun. “What’s heaven like?”

“Heaven?” Sehun said as he walked around a tree, touching the branches gently and peering closely at the berries, “I don’t remember much since I haven’t been there in so long.”

As he watched Sehun admire the gleaming trees and berries, Jongdae had a terrible thought. A single, terribly dangerous thought. Lucifer refused to say what heaven looked like, as he refused to tell others what exactly happened up there after he fell, but it was supposed to be good. And bright. And beautiful. So if Jongdae had only those descriptions, then perhaps this could be heaven.

With less darkness, more life.

With less death, more light.

“Heaven is a blank canvas,” Sehun said, before looking at Jongdae, “Can I pick a berry, or will that have some terrible consequence I don’t know about?”

Jongdae inclined his head, and Sehun picked a berry, holding it up to examine before he closed it in his hand.

“For anyone who comes to heaven,” Sehun said, “it becomes whatever they want. Whatever they believe is their heaven. It can be anything, from fluffy clouds in the sky, to a whole paradise of plants and trees and flowers to get lost in, or a time and place where all their loved ones are still alive forever.”

“What’s it like for you?” Jongdae asked.

“Heaven for angels and those who aren’t dead is that blank canvas,” Sehun said, “Or at least that’s how it was when I left. We don’t see everything everyone sees. We just see a long stretch of white and the dead people wandering around.”

“That…sounds like this,” Jongdae said, stretching his hand out, “Except at least we have a red moon and a fiery sky. How is this any different from that?”

“I guess we can see each other,” Sehun mused, “There’s no darkness there, no shadows to hide in at any time. But what’s the point of seeing everything if you can’t see what you want?”

“What do you want?” Jongdae asked, “Anything else I can do for you aside from this hell tour?”

Sehun looked up at him and let out a laugh.

“Hey that’s not fair,” Sehun said, his lips beginning to spread across his cheeks into a bright smile again, “Didn’t I ask you the same thing? But you never answered.”

“I’ll answer this time if you tell me,” Jongdae smiled.

“What I want,” Sehun thoughtfully said, “I already have. You gave it to me, Jongdae.”

Jongdae grabbed a tree branch and covered half of his face behind it. He did?

“You did,” Sehun nodded, “You did when you answered me back, when you kept me company, and when you opened the door of that cage and let me out. I only wanted to not feel alone, to not feel afraid, to not feel trapped. And you gave me that.”

“I only acted on orders,” Jongdae answered from behind the tree branch, “This cage is for Luhan.”

“I bet Luhan never said anything about talking to whoever was inside the cage. Or especially letting whatever was inside out. That was you,” Sehun insisted and bent the tree branch down so he faced Jongdae fully.

This couldn’t be hell. Not from all the light that was shining, all this…something making the darkness melt away. If anyone looked at Jongdae, they would’ve found stars twinkling in his eyes now.

“He never mentioned anyone inside the cage, so I guess…you’re right,” Jongdae admitted, before lowering his voice, “I’m glad I did.”

“I guess I’ll have to find a different thing to want,” Sehun sighed, looking around at the glow of the trees, “Since you gave me everything.”

Jongdae was used to hearing that he had destroyed too much. Or at least he had tried. He had tried to rupture time, to change what could not be changed. But no matter what he did, Luhan’s reign could not be destroyed even before it began, his relationships could not be destroyed because eternity was forever and they were stuck together. But to hear this…he felt soft. And he wanted to give something in return, something that couldn’t be held but kept, something that couldn’t be seen, but felt.

“What I want,” Jongdae said at last, “is—”

But of course now, this had to happen. The days had slipped past his mind, and maybe it had already been a week. Or maybe there was a part of him that hoped this wouldn’t work when he was this far away from Luhan. Maybe there was a part of him that hoped that Sehun’s presence would have been able to cancel out its effects. Whatever it was, whatever it was, Jongdae had grown distracted and had forgotten that it was time.

With a shout, Jongdae clutched at his neck and fell to the ground, his body seizing up as agony burned through his veins. Unlike then, when he refused to make a sound for Luhan, he could not repress everything any longer and let out a terrible, strangled scream. He alternated between clawing at the ground, and balling up his fists, but always, his body shook, and he trembled, enduring what he shouldn’t have had to endure. Ash accumulated in his fingertips, pain accumulated in his body, and desperation accumulated in his heart. Jongdae wondered if Luhan was across hell remembering it was time.

But before a second more could pass, he felt hands grasp his body and hold him. Immediately the pain lessened. Jongdae weakly let Sehun pull him up and into his arms, and he could only clench his teeth and ball his fists into the fabric of Sehun’s clothes as he fought the screams down. The pain was still intolerable, still feeling like being slowly burned alive, like being slowly cut open, though Jongdae was grateful Sehun had taken away the sharp sting. It felt almost bearable after the way Jongdae felt a hand cradle his head and a voice whisper _it’s okay, it’s okay, I’ve got you, Jongdae_.

After it passed, Jongdae heaved, gasping for air, resting his forehead on Sehun’s shoulder for a moment and only a moment.

“Thank you,” Jongdae said, pushing himself up and off of Sehun, “Really…Thank you.”

He sat on the ground next to Sehun and could feel the ash in his fingertips and taste the metal in his mouth.

“It’s nothing,” Sehun said, and before Jongdae could protest, he continued, “But I have never felt that type of physical pain before. How could they do this to you?”

Jongdae’s blood ran cold, and he immediately jerked his body away, crawling away from Sehun, feeling almost as weak as he had felt moments before.

“You felt that?” Jongdae said, his voice trembling, “You felt all of that?”

Sehun nodded slowly, and Jongdae felt like he was in heaven for all the wrong reasons. He felt like there were no shadows, nowhere at all he could hide in even though there was darkness around him.

“We can’t make pain disappear, but we take half of it and feel it ourselves so the person suffering feels less,” Sehun said, moving closer to Jongdae. He stretched out his hands, prepared to help him more, but Jongdae scooted away as quickly as he could.

Jongdae, heaving chest and all, raised out a hand.

“Don’t touch me,” Jongdae said, his voice hoarse. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, half trying to recover from his punishment, half trying to process what Sehun had said.

Sehun’s expression crumpled.

“But Jongdae, that’s too much pain,” Sehun said, “You should feel none of that. I can’t take away everything, but I can help you feel less.”

He moved his hands closer, but Jongdae stopped him with a terrible scream.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Jongdae said. He could feel tears stinging his eyes, but he was too overwhelmed to control them. Sehun had never once lifted his hands off of Jongdae when the collar punished him. Not even once. He had felt that? And still stayed? He had suffered that for Jongdae? And still never hated?

“Don’t,” Jongdae said, a little softer. He shut his eyes and escaped into the darkness. But he couldn’t wholly escape because the light from Sehun’s bright wings still pricked the corners of his eyes. They were too bright to be extinguished. They were too bright to be ignored. They were too bright for Jongdae to feel alone.

“You shouldn’t feel this pain, Sehun,” Jongdae said, “Please don’t. I wouldn’t want that for you. This is my punishment, so I’ll endure it alone. I’ll survive it alone.”

Jongdae struggled to keep his voice firm, and finally he opened his eyes, staggered to his feet, and stood, walking towards the cage without giving Sehun a chance to respond. This was what he needed to do. He looked into the horizon, picturing Luhan’s castle. Keeping it in his mind, he could almost see the faint outlines of it in the distance. He would go back and deliver this cage to Luhan. He would go back and be freed. He would go back and –

He felt something tugging at him and lost his concentration.

Jongdae turned to see Sehun pulling on his sleeve.

“Can I at least do this? I don’t want to get lost. I don’t want to lose you,” Sehun softly said, pinching Jongdae’s sleeve with his fingers. His bangs had fallen into his eyes, and though this wasn’t the time, Jongdae wanted so badly to reach out and brush it from his eyes.

Jongdae observed the way Sehun looked at him and relented.

He nodded and exhaled slowly, watching the way Sehun’s lips curled slightly upwards. They continued walking, Sehun still holding the little corner of his sleeve. And just as Jongdae was about to grab the cage and continue moving onwards, he was frozen again, stopping in his tracks as Sehun spoke.

“You’re not alone, Jongdae. I’m here,” Sehun sweetly said.

Jongdae’s heart stuttered in his chest.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae continued show Sehun the rest of hell, the corner of darkness that was shaded midnight, the other corner of darkness colored like coal, the other far distant corner of darkness that was the color of black eyeliner when it smudged someone’s cheeks after crying. There really wasn’t anything left to show him, but he enjoyed how his little narrations made Sehun smile.

Well.

There was still the torture division of hell, but no one liked going there. Jongdae had been there only once with Luhan when they were younger, and they never returned since then. He remembered how Luhan covered his eyes with his small hands so Jongdae wouldn’t look, and Jongdae fumbled over with his own hands to do the same for Luhan. Luhan’s father had wanted him to watch, to see what he would inherit when it was his time, but all Luhan had done was scream and throw a fit, demanding that they both be taken home. Luhan’s father gave in when Luhan’s screams drowned out everyone else’s in their nearest vicinity.

When it was his turn to rule, Luhan never even gave punishment a single thought. He was fine with his line, no matter how long. Those cries, he could take. These screams in torture, he could not. That judgment, he could give. This punishment, he would not.

Sehun had still asked if he could see it, but Jongdae knew it would break him.

“No one likes going there,” Jongdae shook his head, “Not even demons, much less the dead. I don’t think you’ll enjoy it at all.”

“Then who looks after that place and the dead there if no one can stand it? Is there anyone there?” Sehun asked.

“There’s one demon who gives out the punishments and watches everything. It’s his own punishment for something he did years ago,” Jongdae said. He had been sent there around the same time that collar had been sealed around Jongdae’s throat.

“He’s alone there? That’s not a way to exist,” Sehun said.

“Demons stop by from time to time to drop off the dead who belong there,” Jongdae said, “But really trust me. You’re too… _you_ to last there.”

Jongdae wasn’t even an angel, wasn’t even nearly as compassionate as Sehun and he almost didn’t last there the only time he visited, too.

“I’ll trust you,” Sehun said after a pause, “Is there anything else to see?”

Jongdae thought he had exhausted the different places hell had to offer. There really wasn’t anything much else except this last part. Demons didn’t like coming here either, but it was for a different reason.

“There’s one place,” Jongdae said, “It’s hard to get there, but if you really want to see it, we can go.”

“I can fly,” Sehun said, “We’ll be fine.”

We?

“Picture a jagged rock path,” Jongdae said as they walked forwards, “With loose stones that feel like they could slip out from underneath you. The further you walk, the narrower the path becomes.”

“Narrower and narrower,” Sehun said. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second to imagine this, but Jongdae kept his eyes open and stared, glared at the space in front of them, daring hell to show them one of its worst. “Got it.”

“It thins out until there’s nothing but a jagged edge,” Jongdae said, “the edge of this cliff only opens up into a darkness blacker than anything. If the fields were midnight and coal, then this…this is the abyss.”

In front of them, the ground beneath their feet shifted, and rocks began appearing as they stepped forwards. Three steps to the left or three steps to the right and they’d fall in. Sehun stopped walking, his hand letting go of the cage.

“The abyss?” Sehun said. He left Jongdae’s side for a moment to walk a few steps forwards. They had not yet reached the edge of the cliff, but Jongdae wanted to yell at him to be careful in case he fell in.

“No one knows what it’s like down there, but it’s a place where no light can exist and where the moon and the fires above are but a dream. Maybe you keep falling for years and years and you hit the ground where you stay forever. Maybe you never stop falling,” Jongdae said, remembering what the demons always said about the abyss.

“Has anyone ever escaped?” Sehun asked.

“Never,” Jongdae said, “Some demons thought they could because they’re demons and not dead, but it swallows even them.”   

Soon, the path began to narrow.

“There,” Jongdae said, pointing in front of them, “the abyss.”

The light of Sehun’s wings shone a light onto the slender path. Twenty steps forward, and they’d fall off the cliff. The rocks shifted and crunched underneath Jongdae’s as he pulled the cage with him.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to bring the cage with you?” Sehun asked, turning back to look, “You could leave it away from here if it’s easier. And safer.”

Despite the light of Sehun’s wings, it was difficult to walk on the rocky path, as the stones were loose and the ground and footing uneven. Occasionally, every time Jongdae pulled the cage forwards, it became stuck on some rocks. When he pulled it free, the momentum sent him stumbling forwards. This would be concerning, but they were not yet on the cliff, so Jongdae thought it would be fine. He would just leave it behind when he saw the end.

“I have to keep it with me,” Jongdae said, tripping once again on the rocks after the cage scraped by on the rocks, “I need it just as much as Luhan needs it.”

“For what?” Sehun asked.

But Jongdae had pushed his luck too far, and this time after he pulled it free, the momentum sent him slipping and skidding down rocks to the side of the path. Even now he refused to let go of the cage, but the path had become so narrow that the cage could not fit. It quickly fell off the side, taking Jongdae with it. Sehun cried out as he watched, leaping forwards to grab Jongdae but only snatching the wind between his hands. But at the last moment, Jongdae grabbed the side of the path with one hand while his other hand stubbornly grasped that cage. The abyss seemed to be sucking him down, the cage feeling like an anchor.

“O _kay_ ,” Jongdae said, his heart stammering to life. He refused to look down. “Of course this would happen to me. Of course.”

“It’s okay! Don’t panic,” Sehun panicked. His voice was loud, but all the sound seemed to be trapped in and absorbed by the abyss below. “Just let go of the cage…Let go of the cage and pull yourself up. It’ll be fine! It’s okay!”

Jongdae was the one dangling off the side of the cliff, but Sehun was the one immediately bending down, reaching out with shaking hands despite all the times Jongdae told him to stay away from the side.

“ _No_ ,” Jongdae shouted back. His arm was straining, but he still clung on. “I _need_ it to survive…I can’t live like this anymore, Sehun.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jongdae,” Sehun said, grabbing onto Jongdae’s forearms. The weight of the cage was too much, so he could not pull them both up. “But no cage, no thing is worth giving up your life to spend down there.”

“Then I’ll pull both the cage and myself up,” Jongdae said. His grip on the edge of the cliff was beginning to slip, but he would survive this. He had to. If he suffered all that pain only to lose himself in a hole, then he could never face Luhan ever again. Not that he’d be able to at this rate.

“Is it really worth spending an eternity down there?” Sehun called out.

Jongdae took this exact moment to turn his head and look down. He inhaled quickly, found his breath strangled in his throat as he saw a sea of blackness darker than anything he had ever known below him. Sehun’s wings still shone, but there was nothing he could see, absolutely nothing to illuminate. He looked back up at Sehun, eyes wide and wild, desperation pounding at his chest.

“Sehun, I will do _anything_ to get rid of this collar, okay?” Jongdae said, regretting how his voice trembled, “Do you know how much I hate this? If I cannot be free of it, then maybe I’ll disappear down there and it’ll stop working.”

Yeah. Maybe if he fell down where no thing, no power, no other demon could reach, then maybe his collar would not pain him any longer. Maybe the fate of being lost, sucked into a hole none could climb out of would nullify the collar’s own punishment. Maybe the—

“So you need the cage, and you won’t let go,” Sehun said, the sudden calmness of his voice jolting Jongdae out of his thoughts. He took a deep breath and sat back onto the cliff, letting go of Jongdae’s arms. “My cage I suffered in for eternity.”

“I will suffer an eternity like yours if I don’t bring this cage back to Luhan,” Jongdae said. The edge of the cliff began to crumble slowly under his fingers. He knew it was not the same, their experiences could not be the same because Sehun had suffered the agony of loneliness alone while Jongdae suffered loneliness in the company of others.

“My cage is your freedom…” Sehun said, letting out a long sigh before breathing in deeply, “Things have a way of working out don’t they.”

Sehun’s hell was Jongdae’s freedom. Sehun’s smile was Jongdae’s light. Sehun’s heart was Jongdae’s, and Jongdae’s heart was Sehun’s even if he had not realized it yet.

“You would do anything to escape that cage, and I’m just trying to escape mine, too,” Jongdae cried out, feeling his fingers slipping, the cage continuing to drag him down, “You understand. Don’t you?”

“I understand,” Sehun said, and he looked almost like Jongdae himself had looked when Luhan’s father told him what the collar would do to him before he put it on his neck and sealed it there.

“If you won’t let go of the cage, then let go of the cliff,” Sehun said, “I’ve got you.”

“Let go?” Jongdae said, a dark, constricting feeling clawing its way across his chest and crawling up his throat, making it hard to breathe, “You want me to let go? If I fall into that abyss, there’s no way I can come out. No one can escape from there, and—”

“Jongdae,” Sehun loudly said, almost loud enough to be a scream. It stunned Jongdae enough to fall silent. Sehun knelt by the cliff even though the rocks cut into his knees and met Jongdae’s gaze with his own.

“Do you trust me?” Sehun asked.

Jongdae looked at him, noticed his jaw clenching, his chest heaving up and down after his shout, and his gaze unmoving, unmovable.

And let go.

Jongdae fell, one hand gripping the cage that felt lighter than it had ever felt, the other moving to grab his collar that felt heavier than it had ever felt. He could’ve stared at the blazing sky or even the red moon to calm himself, to look at one last, vibrant thing before the darkness swallowed him. Instead, he kept his eyes on two golden wings, a light brighter than anything he had ever seen, and stared.

Until it was gone.

Jongdae spread out his arms, grasping at nothing as he fell deeper and deeper, the weight of the cage pulling him down faster and faster. The moon looked like a single drop of blood in the sky, the fires seemed extinguished, and the light out of sight.

But Jongdae quickly felt hands catch him, hands pull him out of the darkness, and as he hovered in the air, suspended in the darkness, he looked behind him and saw light.

Sehun.

With one hand, Sehun caught Jongdae and flew him upwards, and with his other, he pulled the cage from Jongdae’s grasp and held it himself. Jongdae took one final look at the abyss, gave one thought to the damned dead and departed demons doomed to rest there, and turned his attention back above.

A burst of fresh air hit them as soon as they flew past the edge of the cliff, and when they were high enough, Sehun dropped the cage down below and let out a laugh as he heard the clang echo through the space. Jongdae wondered if one day he could do the same with the collar around his neck.

With the cage no longer weighing them down, Sehun slipped an arm under Jongdae’s legs and adjusted his other arm so he could hold the top of Jongdae’s shoulders as he continued soaring upwards. Jongdae hesitantly put an arm around Sehun’s neck to support himself and held on tighter, feeling the wind touch his hair and something bright touch his heart. From up here, the moon looked the same size, but it had never felt closer. From up here, the fires seemed like wispy orange clouds, and they had never felt warmer. From up here, Jongdae almost forgot about the cold iron around his neck and had never felt freer.         

There was a certain feeling that squeezed Jongdae’s heart, that made him want to let out the loudest scream he had ever uttered, that made him suddenly want to cry, to sob until there were no more tears left. But it didn’t feel like a desperate cry, an angry scream. And these were not sad tears.

All Jongdae did was let out a long sigh and turn away from the sights above to look at Sehun. Before he could think twice, he moved in, leaning closer to Sehun’s neck before freezing and hesitating. But Sehun smiled, met him halfway, and leaned his body closer so Jongdae could rest his head in the crook of his neck as they flew. Jongdae felt Sehun rest his cheek on the top of his head, and he dared to lean in closer, to press himself closer.

They could have spent an eternity like this, flying under the red moon and painting the sky with stars. But Sehun must have remembered that Jongdae did not have forever, at least for now, and gently flew them back down, back to where he had thrown the cage near the cliff.

Sehun landed nimbly on his feet, flapping his wings a few last times before letting them fall behind his back. He waited a moment before gently putting Jongdae on the ground. Jongdae still felt dizzy, light-headed from the flight, from the sights, from those bright golden lights, and stumbled forwards.

This time, Sehun was the one who caught him so he wouldn’t fall.

This time, Sehun was the one who led Jongdae towards the ground to rest.

This time, Sehun was the one who sat beside Jongdae before thoughtfully scooting next to him so they would be closer.

Just like that, they sat in silence, keeping their eyes on the horizon, the fires.

A demon. An angel.

That cage behind them.

Jongdae. Sehun.

Something between them.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said in such a way that made him quickly turn his head to look. Sehun stared out the darkness, and the reflection of the flames danced in his eyes. “I don’t know if I want to come back.”

“To where?” Jongdae asked. As he looked at Sehun, somehow he still felt like he was still flying, like the wind still stole some of his breath away.

“Heaven,” Sehun said.

“Why not?” Jongdae asked, “It’s where you belong.”

Demons stayed in hell, angels in heaven, and Jongdae had never heard of the possibility of one crossing into where the other dwelled. Until now. Until Sehun.

“It’s where I’m from,” Sehun said, a little more forcefully, “but it doesn’t have to be where I belong. I’ve spent more years here than there.”

Sehun looked at Jongdae, his eyebrows furrowed, and must have sensed the question on Jongdae’s lips and spoke before Jongdae could speak.

“Were you here when Lucifer fell?” Sehun asked, “Were you here when he created this hell?”

“No,” Jongdae said, “I was born from the flames during Luhan’s father’s time ruling hell.”

“Well I was,” Sehun said, turning away and looking into the distance. He clenched his fists together once before dropping them into his lap. Jongdae slowly scooted even closer to him, as close as he dared.

“After Lucifer fell, some angels willingly followed him. And some he took against their will,” Sehun said.

“He took you?” Jongdae said.

“He took me personally,” Sehun said, “He looked at me, dug a hook into my shoulder, and pulled me along as he plummeted down.”

Sehun’s chest rose and fell rapidly, but he moved to slip his shoulder free of his clothes. Under the glow of Sehun’s light, Jongdae saw an angry red scar, still not healed after all this time. The hook must have stabbed Sehun’s skin, and as Lucifer dragged him along, must have ripped through his shoulder. His scar was curved, almost like half a circle.

“I watched it all,” Sehun continued onwards, his voice calm, but his hands beginning to shake, “I watched him create the other demons. He stabbed their hearts with his malice and poisoned their blood with terrible things. He created this place with hate.”

“Did he…” Jongdae said, feeling his pulse thundering in his head, taking a deep breath to calm himself. If only he could see himself now, red eyes blazing and black aura flickering faster and faster as every moment passed. “Did he hurt you more?”

“I was the one he spared,” Sehun said, sounding as if he was out of breath but still trying to speak, still trying to breathe even if he could not. “The last angel left. He kept me inside a cage so tight it felt like I couldn’t breathe, but loose enough that I wouldn’t suffocate. And he threw a dark cover over it, a blanket made from a piece of the night. So I lay there. Trapped, doomed to be a relic, a part of his past he locked away.”

As if an eternity in a cage could be considered being spared. Jongdae didn’t know what he could even begin to think of saying.  

“Sometimes in the beginning, he came in to taunt me,” Sehun said. Now his forcefulness was gone, his shoulders slumped, and his voice began to shake. Jongdae reached out, hand hovering over Sehun’s shoulder as he watched and listened. “He used to tell me I’d be stuck there forever. Other times, he’d rattle the cage, shake it and hit it with a metal bars to try and scare me. But after a while, after so many years passed, he stopped coming.”

If Sehun had told Jongdae this sooner, there was no doubt in Jongdae’s mind that he would have destroyed Lucifer’s place with his own two hands before he left with Sehun.

“Do you know how lonely it was?” Sehun said, and finally he burst into tears. He didn’t hide his tears from Jongdae, didn’t mind how he must’ve looked as his expression twisted.

Jongdae was sure demons didn’t have the same ability to take away pain like angels did, but he reached out to hold Sehun anyways like he could take away his suffering if he held on tight enough.

“Silence,” Sehun said, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath between cries, “Jongdae, there was only darkness, only silence. The bars of the cage always pressed up against my wings, always feeling like they were closing in. I felt like I was suffocating for years and years and years since Lucifer fell from the sky until now.”

He could not speak any longer, so he paused to continue to cry, to scream. He dropped his head into Jongdae’s shoulder and his hands held on tightly to Jongdae, his fingers crumpling the fabric of Jongdae’s clothes. If only anyone could have seen them now. A weeping angel, torn from the skies, and a demon holding him with bleeding eyes murderous. If Sehun asked him to start a war to kill Lucifer, Jongdae would have done so with no second thoughts, no concern over what punishment would befall him if he failed. Because surely there could be nothing worse than what he lived with already, and he would not fail. He would not fail Sehun when everyone else had already done so.

“I wish you never came here,” Jongdae managed to say, dragging his hand across Sehun’s back again and again, hoping that this was comfort. He remembered Sehun doing the same to him and copied what he had felt. “…to suffer. That’s cruel.”

That was hell. This was what hell was. Did anyone ever expect there to be light here? Kindness? Love? But maybe Jongdae did have at least half of an angel’s healing power because something deeply pained his heart, and he began to feel Sehun’s suffering. 

“I prayed and prayed,” Sehun said, sounding like he had to squeeze the words out of his mouth before pausing again, his shoulders shaking violently. As Jongdae held him, he closed his eyes, and as he listened to Sehun cry, he remembered the first time he had heard that voice in the cage. There was that same flicker between muted defeat and faint desperation. That familiar loneliness.

“I prayed that someone would come get me. But after so many years, it seemed that everyone up there just let me go…No one ever came,” Sehun said, “So really, I don’t know if I want to go back there. What will be there for me if I come back after all this time? Who will be there for me after they chose to forget?”

“Aren’t you angels into that whole…empathy…compassion thing,” Jongdae tried, “You’re you, so I’m sure everyone must be missing you. If you choose to forgive them and come back now, I’m sure you’ll be welcomed back with open arms and tears. An angel’s welcome for an angel.”

He couldn’t comprehend how the angels had just let Sehun go like that with no attempt to take him back. He remembered how the others fought for him, begged Luhan’s father to spare him after he announced his punishment. They had failed, but at least they had tried.

Sehun let out a shaky bubble of laughter, and Jongdae felt his shoulders slightly relax.

“Instead, I got a demon’s welcome for an angel,” Sehun said, finally lifting himself off of Jongdae’s shoulder to gaze at him for a while. Tears stained Sehun’s cheek, old blood stained Jongdae’s clothes, and burning sentiment stained their hearts.

“Not what you expected, right?” Jongdae said, slowly returning Sehun’s smile.

“In that cage,” Sehun said with a long sigh. He was calmer now, and he brushed aside his last tears with the back of his hand before continuing. “When forever passed and eternity dragged on, I knew I shouldn’t give up hope. But after years and years like this, it was the only thing I did. I gave up. I wished for anyone, angel or not, to come and break me out. I didn’t care who. And when the door finally opened in what felt like forever, when the curtains rustled by some other force that was not me, and when a single voice finally answered me back, I was lucky. Because it was you.”

Him?

With a final smile, Jongdae slipped his arms out of Sehun’s body and turned around to sit, facing the darkness in front of him and the fire above. He ducked his head and hid his face in his hands, and if anyone saw them now, frozen in time, it would have seemed like a golden angel sitting next to a weeping demon. But Jongdae was not crying, not anywhere even close to grief. The rage from before had passed, but since he was a demon, he did not let that fury escape and hid it inside his heart for another day.

Demons gave back whatever they were given, so finally, _finally_ , after years of holding his silence, he spoke.

The truth.

“This,” Jongdae said, tapping on his collar as Sehun turned to look at him. He resisted the urge to claw it off of him, to cut it off of his skin, and continued. “This is my punishment for betraying Luhan. And what I want…is it gone. I want to be free at last.”

It didn’t sound any better when he said it out loud, and it wasn’t any easier to admit. Jongdae expected Sehun’s expression to cloud, for his eyebrows to knit together, for his lip to curl up in disgust. After all, who liked traitors? Who liked betraying trust?

But Jongdae supposed he’d never stop expecting and thinking wrong, as Sehun only blinked, scooted closer, and put his hand on top of Jongdae’s.

“What did you do?” Sehun asked.

Sehun’s wings spread over him, shielding him from the darkness.

“I supported a demon who wanted Luhan’s throne for himself,” Jongdae said, speaking before he could stop and change his mind, “Luhan’s father was about to step down, and Luhan was about to step up. I told that demon it was a good time to act. And he did.”

He paused, and Sehun waited. He hadn’t had the chance to tell this part of time on his own terms. There was only one narrative that everyone believed. Jongdae was a traitor and that was that. Everyone knew this part.

“So there was a war. Some demons sided with Luhan. Others didn’t. But it doesn’t matter because Luhan’s father won and reaffirmed that the throne was all Luhan’s,” Jongdae said, resting his chin in his hands.

If he could forget one day in all of eternity, then that would be the day.

“Why?” Sehun asked.

Jongdae fell silent. He hummed out the pause, debating whether or not to speak. He had never told anyone why he had done it. Why he bore the label of betrayer.

“Even if it doesn’t seem like it,” Jongdae finally said, “I did it for Luhan. I did it for him.”

“Of course you did,” Sehun nodded, “You’re very caring, you know.”

Jongdae was about to protest but let the words die on his lips. He cared enough to manipulate a demon to aspire to a throne he had no claim to. He cared enough to ignore all the curses, the whispers of _traitor, traitor, traitor_ as he fought against those he had dined with, had existed with. He cared enough to look Luhan in the eyes as he fought against him, but he did not care enough to tell him why.

“Luhan hates his job,” Jongdae said simply, a small smile creeping up his lips, “He really, truly does, and even if he does care about doing his job properly, it doesn’t mean he hates it any less. It’s dreadful to him, having to face an endless line of damned dead people every day, every night. I know he wants nothing more than to step down, to give everything up to someone else and retire away in some other hellside villa he can build for himself.”

“So you started a war to help him get out of it,” Sehun said.

Jongdae stared. Sehun understood what others didn’t in a second. Why was it so hard for others to understand his heart? Why was it so hard for Luhan who had been with him as long as he had lived to understand his real intentions?

“Yes,” Jongdae said, “I tempted another demon with dreams of the throne to take Luhan’s place, and after years and years, he snapped and acted. But he wasn’t strong enough, so here I am with this collar as my punishment, watching Luhan do his job every day.”

“I’m sure Luhan appreciates your efforts,” Sehun said.

“Oh, he doesn’t know why I did this truly,” Jongdae said. If Luhan did, then he wouldn’t have brushed him off every time he tried to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, wouldn’t have looked at him with such a gaze that made Jongdae feel worse about himself. If Luhan did, then Jongdae wouldn’t have felt so lonely even though he wasn’t alone. If Jongdae didn’t, then things wouldn’t have changed.

“Why not?” Sehun asked, his eyes widening, “He had to know your intentions were well-meaning, not against him.”

“If he knew there was a way out of this job, but it failed, then it would kill him,” Jongdae said, “Hope kills. It strangles, and it is better to not give him a hope that was stabbed, beaten, and chained.”

Jongdae knew because if that had been him, he would have been inconsolable. If someone told him that there was a way out of his collar, but it had failed, he would’ve lost it.

“Still,” Sehun said, “How can you face him if he thinks you betrayed him?”

“Demons are demons,” Jongdae said, “It’s expected of us, isn’t it? That’s why no one really cares. Luhan can’t get rid of me easily anyways. Getting rid of me would be like cutting off his own hand. We grew up together, you know. We’re firebound.”

“But…” Sehun started to say, “you’re better than that. You’re Jongdae. You’re kind, and—”

“Kind?” Jongdae laughed, “Me? Kind? You’re the kind one, Sehun. I live in hell. That says enough about me.”

He wasn’t upset about it. This was the only way to be, so he had never been upset, never mad about his existence. He was fine with it, had loved existence before this collar when times were simpler and his friends happier. There had been more to love than to hate about hell.

“But I’m in hell now. I’ve lived here longer than you, honestly,” Sehun said, “So what does that say about you? What does that say about me?”

“Hell is no place for angels like you,” Jongdae affirmed, “You should have never come here to suffer. That doesn’t change. You didn’t choose to be stuck here.”

“You didn’t either,” Sehun said, “But we’re both here now, so I don’t think anything is expected of us. I, an angel in hell. You, a demon in a cage I’m going to help you get out of.”

“I want this off,” Jongdae said, all of the sudden, pulling at his neck, “More than anything. I want to be free.”

But nothing ever worked, so after one strong pull, he sighed and dropped his hands.

“Then let’s go to the castle,” Sehun said, looking around, “let’s hurry back to it, wherever it is. I want to see how that cage could help someone. Why have we been taking so long to get back? If you could picture where you want to go, then why did it take you so long even before we went around hell?”  

“I’ve been distracted,” Jongdae said.

“By what?” Sehun asked.

Jongdae only smiled and sealed the answer between his lips.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

Jongdae thought he was concentrating on those twisting spirals, those tall, rising structures on Luhan’s castle well enough, but he supposed having Sehun here wasn’t making it easier for him to concentrate. Lately the second he took his eyes from the horizon to look at Sehun, the faint outlines of the castle would disappear. Every time Sehun laughed, Jongdae listened and erased the horizon again. And every time Sehun called his name, said it so sweetly, Jongdae forgot for once, that there was a collar around his neck that killed him. 

Memory was not the only thing that distracted him from journeying back. The dead never acted out, not ever like this. Until now. Jongdae supposed he couldn’t see them clearly in the fields all the times before so he didn’t know if this was truly how they acted. But really, he was exasperated with having to continually push them out of the way as they lunged at Sehun. Sehun at least seemed to not mind them, good-naturedly greeting some when they appeared close enough.

“You’ll just drop off the cage and go, right?” Jongdae said all of the sudden. He hadn’t anticipated Sehun staying this long, and he supposed that Sehun would want to leave as soon as possible before he had the chance to enter a whole castle full of demons. And a Lu. “There isn’t anything else to see here.”

“Oh, I’m thinking of staying,” Sehun said, “It’s not bad here. It could be worse.”

“Staying?” Jongdae asked, and once again found the image of the castle gone from the horizon, “You can’t stay. Hell will tear you apart. I’m not sure how demons will react when they realize an actual angel is here, but it won’t be nice.”

“But you’re a demon, and you’ve treated me kindly,” Sehun insisted, “I’m sure your friends must be nice, and Luhan’s castle is the only place I haven’t seen, too. And Luhan. I do hope there’s no family resemblance.”

“As far as I know, he hasn’t caged anyone,” Jongdae said, though remembered his own prison and hastily added, “on purpose at least.”

“So I’ll stay,” Sehun nodded.

“Or go back to heaven,” Jongdae said, “It’s safer there.”

“But you live here,” Sehun said.

“So?” Jongdae said, “What do I have to do with this?”

Sehun smiled, his hand drifting from the sleeve of Jongdae’s shirt to Jongdae’s arm. Jongdae hated how easily it affected him. It was such a simple touch, a simple gesture, and yet this racing pulse. And yet this blazing sentiment.

“Can’t I spend more time with you?” Sehun asked, “Eternity is so long, so why would I spend it with angels I don’t know when I can spend it with you?”

“Eternity is long,” Jongdae said, wondering how he didn’t stumble over his words after hearing Sehun speak, “That’s a long time to spend with someone. I’m sure you’ll get tired of me. Even Luhan gets tired of me sometimes.”

That was a lie. Luhan had been tired of him for ages, but he still could not let him go.

“Eternity is eternity,” Sehun shrugged, “it has no meaning to me. I’ve spent enough time imprisoned that eternities have bled into nothing at all. Time is time. Love is love. I’m coming with you.”

Jongdae’s mind was blank, save for a long, loud internal scream, so it must have been Sehun who was doing the imagining now, as the outlines of Luhan’s castle appeared on the horizon before Jongdae’s very eyes.

“Wait,” Jongdae called out, and immediately it disappeared once again. Sehun looked away from the horizon and at him. “If you’re coming—”

“I am,” Sehun said.

“If you’re staying—” Jongdae tried again.

“I am,” Sehun said.

Jongdae stopped and looked for any waver in Sehun’s face. He knew what Sehun’s voice sounded like when it shook, how his shoulders felt against his arms when he had cried. But there was no tremor, no wrinkle of concern etched into Sehun’s face. He didn’t recognize what this was, but Sehun looked how Jongdae felt when he made that decision to damn his own future for Luhan’s sake eternities ago.

Not resigned, but determined.

Not doomed, but done.

Not damned, but loved.

But loved.

“If you are coming with me,” Jongdae said, “then you need to be safe.”

“Well,” Sehun said, “You’re here, so I’m not worried. And angels can’t die, but—”

“But you still shouldn’t get hurt,” Jongdae said, “Because who likes pain? Who likes to suffer?”

Sehun reached out and lightly touched Jongdae’s arm, and when Jongdae did not move his arm away, he slipped his fingers through the crook and held it tightly.

“You will get out of that collar soon,” Sehun said, “I’ll help you. Whatever it takes.”

“Time doesn’t pass here,” Jongdae said, “How soon is soon? I still have another five hundred years to go. Is that soon enough? This cage…is just a chance I’ll be out within a year. Maybe less.”

“When Luhan has it, he’ll—” Sehun began to say before Jongdae cut him off.

“When Luhan and the other demons see you,” Jongdae said, “stunning wings, stunning self, stunning heart and all…I cannot guarantee that they’ll be kind. If the dead lunged at you for nothing but breathing, then I don’t know…I don’t know what they’ll do. I would be able to fight other demons if they come at you, but against Luhan, I don’t know.”

“I can hide,” Sehun said, taking the curtain he had swung around one shoulder before draping it around his wings that he quickly folded behind his back. “This curtain hid me for so long. I don’t mind hiding under it for a longer while.”

Sure enough, the curtain had managed to finally dim and extinguish the light from Sehun’s wings, plunging them into a sudden darkness.

“What if the curtain falls off,” Jongdae said, reaching forwards to pull the curtain tighter around Sehun. But his shoulders were too broad, so a sliver of one of his legs still stuck out. At least the light could not be visible from here.

“I guess we’ll have to find a way to seal it,” Sehun said, and after he tried to let go of the curtain, it fell off completely.

“Fire,” Jongdae said as he raised a hand out, unprepared for the blinding light that flooded the darkness again, “We’ll seal it with fire.”

“Is that all?” Sehun asked, “Once we do that, can I finally come inside? Can I pass for a demon now?”

“If you don’t speak, don’t call anyone kind, then maybe you could pass for a demon who spent too much time outside hell and in earth,” Jongdae said before remembering, “but wait…Demons have tattoos burned into their skin after they first wake and are born out of the ashes. What if they ask about yours?” 

“Then draw with fire on my skin,” Sehun nodded before his eyes widened, “It won’t hurt, will it? Since all demons do it?”

“I…I don’t know if it’ll hurt you, but demons came from angels, so we should feel the same, right?” Jongdae said, “and besides. We’re not mortal. We exist to—”

“Love,” Sehun said, “We exist to love.”

Jongdae looked at his smiling face and scoffed.

“Demons exist to punish dead souls,” Jongdae said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He ignored the way his heart squeezed against his chest.

“But what else is there?” Sehun said, quickly following Jongdae who had begun to move forwards again, “If you take away the fires, the souls, the red moon, then…what else is there? You can’t tell me that you’re spending eternity alone, right? None of us, demon or angel, mortal or immortal, are meant to be lonely. You love even if you think you don’t. You are loved even if you think you’re not. I promise you.”

Jongdae said nothing because if he stopped to speak, they would be walking in circles around the fields forever and never reach home. So before he conjured the image of the fire pit in his mind, he gave what Sehun said one last thought. Of course demons loved. Just because the very first of them fell from heaven didn’t mean they couldn’t fall in love. Demons loved for life, but when life was forever, then the choice had to be right. They had to know without a doubt that they would be together until the end of time. Just because demons were immortal did not mean love was. If love couldn’t last, then what was the point of spending all of time with a broken heart? What was the point of loving if it only caused suffering?

Luckily this time, he concentrated hard enough, and they soon reached a place where large stones rested on the perimeters, caging in the area and forming a circle. Inside were concentric circles of coals, burning red, cutting into the darkness. The area around them was filled with soft ash.

“This is where demons are born and reborn,” Jongdae said as they stopped next to one stone, “Do you see the coals? When fires rise up from them looking like they could touch the sky, then that’s how you know a demon’s about to come.”

“How often does it burn?” Sehun asked.

“At least once a day,” Jongdae said, “sometimes more if a whole group of demons have been killed on earth. They come here to be reborn.”

“You can see the fires from Luhan’s castle from here,” Jongdae added, pointing in the distance, “so we’ll wait here until a new demon comes so we can pretend you came from that fire.”

They sat down, resting their backs on the rock, and waited for the fires to burn higher and higher. As they sat in silence, suddenly, Jongdae felt a little shy.

“You know, if you’re serious about this tattoo,” Jongdae said, “then you’ll be firebound to me. Are you sure you want that? I’m not sure how else we can fake a tattoo, but I can try and—”

“What does it mean to be firebound?” Sehun asked.

“Well, it’s lonely to be born with no one to greet you,” Jongdae said, “so those who greet their demons will mark their loyalty to the new demon with a tattoo if the one who wakes agrees. It’s like an unconditional bond. Whether time changes or not, firebound demons will exist together and do anything for each other. It’s a guarantee that eternity won’t be lonely.”

“That’s so _sweet_ ,” Sehun beamed, “You demons are so sweet. You created a concept where no one is born alone and if everyone else leaves, at least you’ll still have your firebound demon. It’s kind of like a buddy system. For life. I think I’ll like it here very much.”

Jongdae couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh. Demons? Sweet? Hell? Somewhere Sehun would like? Somewhere Sehun would want to stay?

“Can I see your tattoos?” Sehun asked.

Jongdae nodded and slipped off his shirt before exposing his back to Sehun.

“Who are you firebound to?” Sehun asked, tracing Jongdae’s wings with a light finger, “Who gave you these beautiful tattoos? I love them.”

“Luhan,” Jongdae shivered as he felt Sehun’s fingers dance on his skin.

“He’s a wonderful artist,” Sehun said before resting his hand on the small of Jongdae’s back, “But why did you choose these wings? We can match.”

“All the Lus have someone by their side for the rest of time, someone who’s their right hand, their second in command. And all these demons show their devotion to the Lus and mark their status with winged tattoos. We cannot fly like the Lus with their own feathered wings, but we would forge our own and fly if that’s what they want,” Jongdae said before shrugging his shirt back on.

“Then it must hurt both of you,” Sehun said, “since he thinks you betrayed him.”

“He’ll get over it,” Jongdae said.

He hoped.

But demons never forgave easily, so he doubted.

“You should tell him the truth,” Sehun said, “He’ll understand.”

Jongdae said nothing and fell into silence, feeling his tattoos slightly flutter and crawl on his skin. Sehun noticed his reluctance to talk and changed the subject.

“Have you ever done this before?” Sehun asked.

“Yes. I greeted Yeri and gave her tattoos when she was born,” Jongdae said, “So don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

When she awoke from the ashes fully formed, he remembered how she had yawned, blinked ash out of her eyes, and stretched, twisting around in the fires that remained. He had greeted her with a smile she sleepily returned and held out her arm for him. A key. That’s what she wanted. A lock and a key. Nowadays, her tattoo didn’t move much, the lock stayed shut, and the key stayed stowed away.

Suddenly, the embers around the circles began to burn redder, and walls of fire shot out into the sky.

“Someone came back from Earth,” Jongdae said, “the flames aren’t as high, so that’s how you can tell it’s not a new birth. 

“This isn’t high?” Sehun asked, gawking at the fires above.

“Wait here,” Jongdae said, “I’ll drag them out first so we can sneak you in before the fires die.”

“Oh, but that demon just got here,” Sehun said, “shouldn’t they rest?”

“They can rest out here,” Jongdae said before marching face first into the fire.

Maybe it was instinct, but he always held his breath when he passed through each circle of fire. It never hurt, never stung too much at least. Embers danced in the air as he passed. When he reached the innermost circle, he found a new demon, slowly twisting about in the ashes.

“I’m going to need you to rest outside,” Jongdae muttered before pulling them out of the circles. The demon only groaned in response. Jongdae had never been reborn before, so he wasn’t sure if it hurt. Or maybe it was the memory of what had happened, how they died that hurt to remember.

Once he stepped out of the last circle of fire, he dropped off the demon beside a rock and brushed his hands off. Sehun immediately approached the new demon, staring at them before kneeling.

“Sorry,” Sehun said, touching the demon’s shoulder, “Sorry…Welcome back to hell?”

“You’re welcoming him back?” Jongdae asked, stopping in his tracks.

“Someone has to since there’s no one else,” Sehun said as the demon muttered something unintelligible, “who would want to wake up alone? Who would want to be reborn alone?”

“It happens sometimes,” Jongdae admitted, “When others aren’t paying attention, or others aren’t here. It’s only the new births that everyone pays attention to.”

“We’re here now, so it’s the least we can do,” Sehun said before bending down next to the demon, “Welcome back to hell…Have a good time. Try not to die again.”

Jongdae laughed, crossing his arms together as he watched Sehun wipe away the ashes stuck to the demon’s cheek. If other demons had been here, they would’ve either ignored him, sneered at someone for failing to do their job, for dying and being sent back here, of all places. Maybe the kinder ones would have said hello again, how do you do again, how did it feel to die again. But Jongdae was not kind with this demon and hurried Sehun up before he could attempt healing him.

“We have to go now,” Jongdae said, “Are you ready?”

At the sound of Jongdae’s voice, Sehun immediately stood and walked to him. But he gazed warily at the walls of fire in front of him and fiddled with his fingers.

“Does it hurt?” Sehun asked, “How badly does it hurt?”

“If you advance quickly, it won’t hurt,” Jongdae said, “If you change your mind and go backwards, then it’ll hurt. It’ll burn you. If you go too slowly and hesitate, if you stop any time in there, then it’ll hurt. It’ll pain you.”

“Oh,” Sehun said, “And all demons do this?”

“Yes,” Jongdae said, “But don’t worry. I’ll guide you so the flames won’t hurt, so you won’t get lost in there, and so you won’t feel any pain.”

Sehun stood with his chin raised up as he stared at the inferno in front of them.

“Does it feel like the fire suffocates you in there?” Sehun asked with a quiet voice, “Does it feel like another cage?”

“Maybe it will,” Jongdae admitted, recalling how constricting the fires seemed to him. “But I’ll be there, and I’ll extinguish the fire the first second you feel scared. I’ll talk to you the first second you feel lonely.”

Sehun slowly took his eyes off of the fire and looked back to Jongdae. There was a stony expression on his face, and his jaw was set, clenched.

“Do you trust me?” Jongdae said, reaching out towards him.

Sehun took his hand.

Jongdae led the way first, setting a steady tempo. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Taking a deep breath, he marched headfirst into the flames, felt them dance on his clothes and his skin. They were past the first ring, soon stepping into the next walkway of ashes. Jongdae was too busy looking back at Sehun to make sure he was okay to remember to watch for the next flame, so he took that impact cheek first. It felt warm on his face, but it didn’t hurt.

Again and again, they walked through the rings of fire before Sehun decided to walk a little faster so he could walk through the last ring by Jongdae’s side.

“See?” Jongdae said as soon as they reached the final, innermost circle, “That wasn’t so bad, right?”

“This is a small area,” Sehun said, looking around, “and if you weren’t here with me, I would have been afraid.”

“But you’re not?” Jongdae said, squeezing Sehun’s hand tighter.

“But I’m not,” Sehun smiled.

Jongdae smiled and gestured for Sehun to sit at the center of the ashes. Sehun complied while Jongdae kneeled beside him. There were little flames curling up in the ashes, to be used for burning tattoos onto skin.

“Have you thought about what tattoo you want?” Jongdae asked,

Sehun fell silent before nodding. He shrug out of his robes, exposing his bare chest and shoulders to Jongdae.

“Can you…is it possible to cover this up?” Sehun softly asked. He didn’t point at anything, didn’t gesture at anything, but Jongdae knew.

Jongdae traced the angry red, curved scar that snaked up Sehun’s shoulder. Time didn’t erase everything. Eternity couldn’t hide everything.

“Of course,” Jongdae said, rolling up his sleeves.

“Will this hurt, too?” Sehun asked, watching as Jongdae leaned over to pull a handful of fire from the ashes.

“It might sting,” Jongdae said, “Is that okay?”

“You endure more, so I’ll survive,” Sehun said, shifting closer to Jongdae.

Jongdae gripped the edge of Sehun’s shoulder with his free hand and hovered his other hand above the top of Sehun’s chest. Sehun grabbed Jongdae’s thigh to brace himself, gritting his teeth before nodding again and again and again. Jongdae murmured some consolations and reassurances before gently spilling the fire onto Sehun’s skin.

Sehun hissed, yelped at the sudden sensation before his shoulders dropped, his eyebrows rose up as if he had realized that he had overthought the pain, had expected far worse than what he actually felt. Jongdae continued to work as Sehun slowly relaxed, molding the fire with his hands, twisting it to cover Sehun’s tattoo. It was important to keep the fire contained so it wouldn’t spill out, spread, and leave a different mark. Jongdae gently pushed the boundaries of the fire with his hands, keeping them where they should burn.

Sehun stared so intently that Jongdae now could not help but look up and meet his gaze. From here, Jongdae could see every wrinkle on Sehun’s face, how soft his lips seemed, how flushed his cheeks looked, and were it any other time, then maybe he would have. He would have asked. He would have smiled. He would have leaned in.

But this was a ritual that required all his concentration, so Jongdae focused on not burning Sehun anymore than needed, not accidentally paining him, not making his tattoo unseemly. And finally, when the fires were extinguished, a smooth, black tattoo remained. Jongdae touched it lightly, tracing it with a finger as Sehun shivered.

“It’s done,” Jongdae said. Sehun finally looked downwards, expecting a scar, seeing so much more.

“It’s gone,” Sehun gasped, touching his skin with his fingertips, “Jongdae…thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Jongdae said, “The edges curved a little more than I wanted, but—”

“But I love it,” Sehun grinned.

“Do you want to add anything to it?” Jongdae smiled, “any swirls, any stars, any s—”

“Can you draw that same exact thing? Mirror it on the left side so it trails and wraps around my shoulder?” Sehun asked. 

“Sure,” Jongdae said and bent down to scoop up some fire with his hand. With his other hand, he braced Sehun and pressed the fire back to his shoulder. Sehun turned his head at the sensation, and Jongdae molded the flames, twisted them with his fingers until it resembled the shape Sehun wanted.

This time, Sehun only pressed his lips together and did not make a sound. Jongdae watched the fire dance on Sehun’ skin until the cinders burned away before brushing off the remnants of ashes from Sehun’s skin to reveal the rest of the tattoo.

“You have a number three tattooed on your body,” Jongdae mused, admiring his complete work.

“It’s not a three,” Sehun said, turning his head to try and look at the new part of his tattoo.

“Then what could it be? Curved mountains?” Jongdae said, trying to look at it from a different angle.

“Your lips,” Sehun announced with a wide smile. He gave up trying to look at what he couldn’t see and looked instead at what was in front of him. Who was in front of him. “Doesn’t it look like the curve of your lips?”

Jongdae’s fingers flew to his mouth, and sure enough, as he tried to lift up his lips, the ends of Sehun’s tattoo curled up even more.

“You didn’t,” Jongdae said.

“You did,” Sehun said, “You were the first thing I saw after all those years alone, Jongdae. You make me forget that loneliness I endured in the cage, and you so easily covered my scars with your smile.”

Now if Jongdae was being absolutely honest, the first thing he thought after he saw Sehun’s tattoo was _fuck, the other demons are never letting him live this down for this tattoo._ But now, after hearing Sehun, after seeing how the edges of his tattoo moved just like his lips moved, he could only reach out to trace the tattoo with his fingers.

He would be lying if he said he didn’t notice how fondly Sehun was staring at him this whole time, these entire times.

“Is it only because of that? Because I opened a door?” Jongdae said, looking at Sehun, “Anyone can do that.”

“But you did it first after eternities,” Sehun said, “And because you also replied to me and helped me out of my cage the first time when you could have easily stood and watched me fall. You caught me when I fell out of the sky when you could have turned away and left. You let me follow you, took me with you, and showed me kindness here. Hell is a place for angels if they meet a demon like you, Jongdae.”

“We’re firebound now,” Jongdae could only manage to say. He reached over to pull the curtain over Sehun’s shoulders and sealed the edges together with fire. “Even if you’re an angel, these customs must still apply then. You’re with me until the end of time. Are you really sure you’re okay with that? If not, I can just burn this off when you leave, and you—”

“Never,” Sehun said, “What do you mean leave? I’m still here. You and I, we both don’t die, so I can spend how many years I want here for life. Eternity sounds good so far.”

Jongdae let him talk.

But Sehun was wrong about one thing, maybe two, and Jongdae didn’t have the heart to correct him in the moment because all of his heart was bursting. Jongdae didn’t believe in much. He didn’t believe many demons when they said they pitied him for his actions, or that they pitied him for his punishment. He didn’t believe Joy when she said the only reason she visited the dead was because they wanted her to. He didn’t believe Sunmi when she said she only dusted the curtains around Luhan’s portrait because he’d throw a fit if it were dirty. He didn’t believe Yeri when she said that she never wanted to go back to the past again. And he didn’t even believe Luhan when he said that sorries were never allowed and should never be said here. But he believed in the strict, precise amount of years, days, minutes, seconds left before he would be free of this punishment. He believed he would find a way out earlier before that time because he needed it and wanted it more than anything.

And he believed Sehun.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Eternity was eternity, but some things had to end. Jongdae only realized that now as Luhan’s castle finally approached on the distant horizon. It seemed Sehun had focused on it in Jongdae’s place because there was no way Jongdae could have made the castle appear while his mind was this preoccupied with so many other things. One was the castle. One was his collar. It was always the collar. Another was Sehun. That thought had appeared more and more frequently in his mind in many different ways, and while other times it was associated with fondness, with soft hearts and soft smiles, right now, there was fear.

Jongdae stopped in his tracks as the castle appeared so close to them.

This time, Sehun skipped ahead and leapt in the air.

“That’s it! That’s it, right? We’re there!” he grinned before noticing Jongdae still stuck in the dark, alone, grasping the cage with one hand.

“Jongdae,” he shouted out before hurrying back.

“Come with me,” Sehun said, stretching out his hand, “What are you waiting for? Let’s go.”

Jongdae hesitated.

To go back to the castle would mean these times alone with Sehun would end. He knew the second they’d step within the castle borders, he’d live not only with one hand on his collar, pulling it off his neck, but also one hand on his dagger just in case Sehun would be caught, would be killed. Hell was no place for an angel, and Jongdae would find Sehun a way out no matter what it cost him.

Briefly he realized he’d have no hands left to hold Sehun, so he would have to drop one. The collar or the dagger. The pain or the fight.

He could let go of Sehun, but he was selfish. Demons all were. He’d keep everything he wanted all for himself and stuff them in his arms until everything spilled out of his heart.

“Jongdae,” Sehun called out again. The sound of Sehun’s voice reminded Jongdae to walk towards him, walk towards the light, walk towards that smile and hold onto that hand before they walked onwards, into the night.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Sehun said, gazing up at the castle walls, “Lucifer’s place was always hideous. Luhan has taste. These fires are so…cozy.”

“Beautiful?” Jongdae said. Fire was fire. What was so beautiful about this?

“But don’t worry, Jongdae,” Sehun said, pressing himself closer to him, “Nothing’s as beautiful as you.”

Jongdae laughed, patted Sehun’s arm and refused to let himself feel affected. After all, Sehun called everything beautiful. There was nothing special with how Sehun called Jongdae’s name and looked at him like he looked at the moon. At least that’s what Jongdae told himself.

Finally, this time within mere moments, they reached the castle’s inner gates, dragging the cage behind him.

“Don’t say anything that might make the demons inside suspicious of you,” Jongdae said, turning to Sehun with a warning, “Don’t be kind. Don’t say sorry. Luhan hates sorry the most.”

“I’ll try,” Sehun said, “But please don’t worry. I think it’ll be fine. If no one’s as cruel as Lucifer, anything will be fine. Anyone will seem kind to me.”

“You’re lucky all the demons relaxed under Luhan’s rule,” Jongdae said, “if it was any other demon ruling, they’d all stab you, leave you out to bleed, and call that a proper welcome.”

“Well. If that’s demon culture,” Sehun said.

“Demon culture is now fine arts and wine thanks to Luhan,” Jongdae said.

“That sounds lovely,” Sehun said, “What are you waiting for now? Let’s go and deliver the cage to Luhan so you can be free.”

“Yeah,” Jongdae smiled, reaching out to secure Sehun’s cape and make sure not even a sliver of light leaked out, “Let’s go.”

The screeching metallic sound of the cage dragging across the ground sounded their arrival. They did not have to scream to be let in, yell that they were here, as the iron gates slowly swung open to let them return. Sehun remarked how lovely the gate’s engraving was, but Jongdae was already busy, looking around at every corner, every inch of darkness visible and not visible to him. The demons would know, right? Know that Sehun was not one of them?

But perhaps they were too busy, or they just didn’t care. Some blinked at Sehun, greeted him with choruses that…weren’t threatening.

_Oh? A new demon!_

_He’s got a nice face._

_What’s up with the cloak._

_Welcome to hell. Don’t enjoy your time here._

But that was only a few out of the other demons that directly spoke to them. These demons focused their attention on Jongdae. Normally he would laugh and mutter a threat in the same breath, but Sehun was here, so he could only ignore them and push through the castle halls. The fires flickered and threatened to leave their torches from how fast they passed them.

“What’s up, traitor,” one of them called, slapping Jongdae’s shoulder as he passed them.

“Damn I thought you would’ve gotten lost in the fields,” another called, “it’s what you deserve.”

“How does that collar feel around your neck? Did it hurt you today yet?” another one jeered. Jongdae had to admit. Even he had to hold himself back from lunging at that demon after hearing that. But he only gritted his teeth and kept his gaze forwards.

Sehun had been diligently trying his best to not speak, but if only Jongdae could see the way he pressed his lips together, the way his jaw clenched, the way he turned back to shoot them a dangerous look.

“You know _what_ ,” Sehun started to loudly say. The demons turned around, waiting for Sehun to continue. One put their hands on their hips. Another flashed a hilt of a dagger. Sehun was undeterred and pointed his finger at them. “First of all, you f—”

“Don’t,” Jongdae said, holding Sehun back with one arm as he all but dragged him down the hall, “It’s not worth it. Don’t risk yourself.”

“But they’re wrong,” Sehun protested as Jongdae begged him to keep his voice down. Sehun’s chest heaved, and his bottom lip wavered from the effort it took to bite back his words.

“They don’t know what you know, so it’s fair to think like that,” Jongdae said.

Sehun’s face dropped into a deep scowl, twisting up his beautiful features. The sudden change startled Jongdae, and he took a second and third glance to check that he was seeing properly. He had seen Sehun most often with his cheeks rosy from laughing, his lips turned up, and even his eyebrows knitted upwards when he was on the verge of tears. But never this.

“What’s wrong?” Jongdae asked, “Are you all right?”

“No,” Sehun said, his lower lip jutting out into a pout, “I want to throw them into a fire. They can’t say that to you.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, stopping again, “It’s fine. Really. But thank you.”

“No it’s not,” Sehun said, “Anyone who thinks that you’re anything but kind, but sweet is wrong. I’ll fight anyone who says otherwise.”

Jongdae’s heart melted, and he could not help but smile and reach forwards to brush Sehun’s bangs from his face.

“And I’ll fight anyone who tries to harm you, who tries to put you back in a cage,” Jongdae said, “Stay by my side, and I’ll keep you safe.”

Sehun listened to Jongdae, and quickly, the fiery scorn was extinguished, only a tiny ember that kindled something sweeter remaining. He smiled and leaned over, gently cradling the back of Jongdae’s head before pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s forehead.

Jongdae swore that his cheeks turned red from all the heat of the fire, but of course that was a lie. Of course there really was no other reason as he looked at Sehun, his mouth slightly dropping open.

“Stay by my side, and I’ll help free you,” Sehun nodded, “I will make the last five hundred years of your punishment seem like a second, and I will stretch out our future seconds to make them feel like hundreds of years. Together.”

It was right then and there that Jongdae promised himself he would kill for Sehun. Demons never truly died forever, but if anyone ever even laid a finger on Sehun, Jongdae would kill them, meet them in the ashes when they reformed, and throw them into oblivion again and again and again. Maybe it was easy for angels to listen to their hearts. Sehun thought everything was beautiful, everything was lovely, and he loved so much. But demons were more selective, refused to listen to their hearts until the sentiment was too overwhelming and until the beating of their hearts drowned out any denials. Jongdae and Sehun were already firebound, but once Jongdae’s heart chose Sehun, that was it. Eternity and beyond. Life until death. Death until light.

And Jongdae’s heart already chose even if Jongdae himself didn’t fully realize yet.

Before Jongdae could say anything else, a voice suddenly shrieked and footsteps thundered in the distance.

“Jongdae!” the voice cried, and Jongdae felt someone launching themselves at him. He looked, saw a flash of glittering rubies and laughed, holding the demon back.

“It’s been a long time since you hugged me like that,” Jongdae said, “Did you really miss me that much Sunmi?”

“You were gone so long,” Sunmi said, releasing him from her arms as she stared at him, “These halls were empty.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that long,” Jongdae said, “and besides. The others were there.”

“I’m glad you found the cage,” Sunmi said, looking behind him and noticing the cage, “maybe you’ll be free soon. Good.”

Sehun who had been attempting to unsuccessfully conceal his large shoulders between Jongdae’s narrower ones had failed to hide, and Sunmi looked behind Jongdae and smiled.

“Oh! Who’s this?” Sunmi said, peeking behind Jongdae’s shoulder, “He’s handsome.”

“I found him wandering in the fields alone,” Jongdae hastily said before Sehun could speak, “It seemed we missed his birth, so I gave him tattoos and brought him with me. It’s not right to be alone out there.”

Sunmi hummed in response. She did not welcome Sehun because there wasn’t anything much to welcome him to, but she did smile.

“Luhan’s waiting,” Sunmi said, “He wants to see you.”

“Or course,” Jongdae said, reaching to pull the cage along, “He’ll complain how the cage scratched his floors.”

“That can be forgiven,” Sunmi laughed, and darted behind the cage to push it forwards as Sehun and Jongdae pulled it through the castle.

Luhan seemed done with judging the dead today, as Sunmi directed them into a spacious parlor room. As they stopped in front of the doors waiting for it to open, Jongdae begged whatever kind thing was listening out there that Sehun would not be recognized. Other demons could be fooled, but Luhan could not.

The doors opened, and everyone inside turned to look at Jongdae. Luhan reclined on a red, velvet divan while Joy and Yeri sat around him. A bottle of wine lay opened in front of him. Typical.

“Oh, I’m glad you’re back,” Joy gasped, throwing her hands over her mouth, “Jongdae, I’m so glad you came home.”

Yeri said nothing but slightly raised the corners of her lips, nodded, and dropped her gaze back to the chains she tinkered with in her lap.

“You made it back with the cage,” Luhan said, gazing at the cage, “Good. I would’ve been surprised if you hadn’t. Desperation is a strong motivator, you know.”

“You can free him now, right?” Sehun finally spoke, “Since you have that cage?”

Everyone finally stopped to notice Sehun, to stare at him, who towered a head over Jongdae, who shrunk behind him even though he was taller. The curtain had masked the brightness of Sehun’s wings, but his light still could not be smothered.

“And who the fuck are you?” Luhan asked.

Jongdae was about to hurriedly answer, to lie and say something…anything that would satisfy Luhan. But Sehun had already spoken, and Jongdae was already preparing himself for the worst.

“Hello, I’m Sehun,” the angel sweetly said to everyone, “It’s so lovely to meet you. You have a beautiful castle.”

Although Jongdae didn’t move a muscle, didn’t raise his eyebrows or say anything, his internal monologue was most definitely one loud, long scream. Demons didn’t say _that._ Demons didn’t do _that._ Around him, the other demons froze. Luhan paused before getting up and walking a slow circle around Sehun, his gaze trailing up and down Sehun’s body. Jongdae felt his heart stammer into his chest for all the wrong reasons and resisted the urge to watch from between his fingers.

“Are you sure you’re a real demon? No one’s ever said that to me before,” Luhan laughed, tugging on Sehun’s cloak.


	3. Chapter 3

“Are you really? Who are you?” Luhan asked. Sunmi repeated what Jongdae had told her and Luhan tilted his head, never taking his eyes off of Sehun.

“That’s unusual,” Luhan said, “no one greeted you when you were first born? That’s never happened before. You didn’t think to follow the light into the castle, but strayed into the fields this whole time?”

“Well, you know…that happens sometimes,” Jongdae said, grabbing Luhan’s glass and making sure Luhan saw him drink his wine. 

“Hands off my wine, Jongdae,” Luhan said, snatching the glass from Jongdae’s hands. Jongdae used that momentary distraction to guide Luhan to his seat again before gesturing Sehun to sit at the chair furthest away from Luhan.

“How are you all doing, fellow demons?” Sehun asked. Jongdae sat next to Sehun and placed a hand to cover his expression before turning to give Sehun a look, one that he hoped screamed the severity of _what the fuck are you doing?_

After seeing Jongdae’s expression, Sehun pressed his lips together and said nothing more.

“Fellow demon…sure,” Luhan said before sipping his wine, “Anyways…what tattoo did Jongdae give you? All demons have one. You should have one, too?”

“You’re firebound to Jongdae?” Yeri suddenly said, her neck snapping up.

“Yes,” Sehun nodded, “He was very gentle with me.”

If they both survived this encounter, Jongdae would make sure to write a list of blacklisted words that absolutely included kind, gentle, sweet. And love.

“That doesn’t mean you’re any less important, Yeri,” Jongdae said after noticing the way her expression clouded, “If you’re both firebound to me, then you’re connected with each other, too.”

He waited for a _whatever_ , but would have to wait until whenever because Yeri only raised an eyebrow and dropped her gaze to her hands, fumbling with the chains.

“Come on now, let’s see your tattoo,” Luhan said as he poured more wine into his glass.

Jongdae quickly helped Sehun slip off his shirt and tucked the curtain under and around Sehun’s wing to continue to hide the light.

“A…curve?” Joy asked, leaning forwards to catch a better glimpse of Sehun’s tattoo, “A semicircle?”

“Jongdae you spend all your time next to me, but you’re still a terrible artist,” Luhan said after a single look, “What is that supposed to be?”

“His tattoos are fine,” Yeri replied, “Mine are still good. Better than this though.”

“Oh, that’s not all!” Sehun said, turning to show his back. Jongdae pressed the fabric of the curtain down before slowly inching it away to reveal the rest of the tattoo. “It mirrors itself on my back.”

Jongdae counted about a second before he heard Luhan laugh.

“A three? Why do you have a number three tattooed on yourself? Did Jongdae run out of time? Fuck!” Luhan laughed, putting down his glass so the liquid wouldn’t slosh onto his pristine carpets.

“It’s not a three,” Sehun said, “It’s—”

But Jongdae knew that answer would be too much, and gripped Sehun’s arm to tell him to _stop_.

“It’s a secret,” Jongdae said.

“Where did you find this one, Jongdae?” Joy asked, “He’s…special.”

 “I think he’s handsome,” Sunmi smiled, “He doesn’t have any piercings though…I can pierce his ears if he wants.”

Sehun returned her smile, but Jongdae still did not give himself the space to relax. Either way, aside from a few long, occasional stares from Luhan, no one strode across the room to rip off Sehun’s cape, no one announced that Sehun was most definitely not a demon, and no one tried to hurt Sehun, so Jongdae allowed himself to breathe a little easier.

But only for a single second. Every time someone spoke, Jongdae was ready to defend.

“You know demons have some dead they have authority over, right?” Joy said, “Have you figured out what your dead are?”

“Dead? I have dead people to take care of?” Sehun asked, his expression brightening, “Which dead do you all look after?”

“People who lie their way out. Who cheat, who sneak,” Yeri said, “Magicians.”

“People who loved as much as they lost,” Sunmi said, “Jilted lovers. Abandoned friends. Widows.”

“Black widows,” Joy said as the spider tattoos on her arms crawled towards Sehun, “People who killed their love before love could kill them.”

“I have the burden of looking after everyone,” Luhan scowled, “There’s too many names to remember, too many sins to know, and yet…I remember all. That’s what it means to be a Lu.”

“So what about you?” Sunmi asked, “Which dead will you take control of?”

“I guess I’ll know when I find my place here and where I belong,” Sehun smiled before turning to Jongdae, “What about you, Jongdae?”

“Oh, Jongdae doesn’t have anymore dead people under his authority,” Luhan waved him off, “The collar was not his only punishment.”

Jongdae wondered how his dead were doing. They weren’t his dead anymore, but still. He didn’t think anyone had been named as his replacement, so they were out there without a demon to fear, without a demon to look to.

“We’ve said enough about ourselves,” Luhan said, breaking the silence, “How much about demons do you know? How much do you know about your own self?”

Jongdae internally begged Sehun to not say _—_

“Demons are kind,” Sehun said, and that’s when everyone started laughing again. Jongdae testily laughed, though he was sure by now everyone could see the panic in his eyes.

“What?” Sehun asked, “I’ve been with Jongdae, and he’s been kind to me.”

Maybe forever was too long a time to not speak to anyone because Sehun kept his words going regardless if they could kill him or not.

“That’s because he obviously c—” Joy said before Luhan interrupted her.

“I don’t know where you’ve been these years or all this time, but...demons aren’t kind,” Luhan said, raising his glass to his lips, “We’re selfish. We’re the worst. We have to be in a place like this.”

“I don’t see it,” Sehun shook his head. Jongdae gave up giving Sehun looks and focused on determining if anyone seemed like a threat. Yeri didn’t even look at them. Joy lounged about, reclining on the chair comfortably, no sign indicating that she would leap up and strike. Sunmi leaned her head on Joy’s neck and watched calmly. Luhan was the one Jongdae was worried about, but all he did was sit and drink.

“I guess it used to be worse,” Yeri said, continuing to tinker with the chains she held, “But when Luhan took over after his father retired, it wasn’t as violent. No one gets stabbed for fun anymore.”

“Unless they want to,” Joy said.

“But who likes pain?” Sunmi huffed, sitting up to flip her hair.

That seemed too familiar.

The mention of the word made Sehun lean forwards, one hand placed on Jongdae’s leg, the other balling up the fabric of his dark cloak.

“Luhan, can you please get rid of Jongdae’s collar now? He brought you the cage you wanted,” Sehun said.

“How…how do you know so much?” Luhan said, his eyes narrowing, “How much did Jongdae tell you?”

“Enough to know that he doesn’t deserve it,” Sehun said, “So take it off. He’s suffered long enough.”

The mention of the suffering made everyone look at Luhan, waiting for what he’d say.

“You did promise,” Jongdae said, his voice sounding more like a whisper. His heart pounded, and his mind was ablaze with an endless mantra of _please, please, please, please, please…_

“He’s told you wrong then,” Luhan said, “if that’s what you think. But a promise is a promise. We’ll wait until the next full moon to try.”

If Luhan wanted, he could have snapped his fingers and made the moon full any time he wanted. Jongdae wanted this _now,_ but if he had to wait another month, then he would. A month was still much less than five hundred years.

Luhan raised a hand in the air, as if he anticipated dissent.

“It takes time to prepare. Don’t look at me like I can snap my fingers and it’ll fall off of his neck,” Luhan said.

After all, he was not the one who put it there.

Luhan excused himself after, muttering that he had things to attend to. He sent an attendant in to help move the cage somewhere else. The others exited the room promising they’d appear at dinner. Yeri looked at Sehun once, tilting her head before leaving.

“A month,” Jongdae said when the room was vacant.

“Too long,” Sehun shook his head.

“It’s better than five hundred years,” Jongdae said, “and it’s the first time Luhan offered to do something like this.”

“Luhan,” Sehun said, “he’s much kinder than Lucifer.”

“It doesn’t seem like that’s hard to do,” Jongdae said, “but you should’ve seen him when he was younger. You would’ve called him very kind.”

“Really?” Sehun asked, “what happened?”

“You know,” Jongdae said with a sigh, “me. And he took the throne. The seat all Lus must sit in at least once in their existence.”

“Well hopefully that will change,” Sehun said, “How many Lus did I miss?”

“Come. I’ll show you,” Jongdae said, standing up. He bent down to fix and adjust Sehun’s cloak before helping him up. “There’s a whole gallery of Lus and their portraits for you to see.”

Jongdae felt light without the cage to drag behind him or to push in front of him. It was easier, just focusing on Sehun’s hand in his as they walked through the halls without a heavy burden to carry.

Jongdae led Sehun through the aisle of Lus, though quickly skipped past the first portrait, squeezing Sehun’s hand that it was okay, it was only a painting. Not the real demon. Not the real Lu. Sehun asked questions, stopped at each Lu, and listened as Jongdae told him about the times he missed. He started from Lucas and his demonic deer army, Lucretia and her collection of precious jewels, and Luxun and his books. Jongdae had to skip some years because they would be here forever if he recounted everything. But Sehun seemed still amazed with what he had missed.

“Lucille?” Sehun asked, pointing at the next portrait, “Did she really decapitate that demon in the picture?”

“Of course,” Jongdae said, “Cross her and you’ll regret it. I wasn’t there for her, but the stories still linger.”

“Where is she now?” Sehun asked, clinging to Jongdae tighter.

“Retirement,” Jongdae said, “it’s where all of them are. They’re living their days off in some big, empty mansion with their demons that were born under their rule.”

“When will Luhan retire?” Sehun asked as the walked onwards to the next Lu.

“When his time is done,” Jongdae said, “when he does something big enough that will allow him to retire.”

Hopefully in a month. Of course, he still didn't have a successor, but if Jongdae could believe he'd free himself sooner, then he could believe Luhan would find a way to retire even if he was the last Lu, too. 

“Who’s this?” Sehun asked, pointing at the next Lu who posed with a wild mane of gray hair next to a piano.

“DVB,” Jongdae said.

“What does that stand for?” Sehun asked.

“Dwig Van Beethoven,” Jongdae said before moving on.

They continued down the hallway, Jongdae naming Lu after Lu, continuing to skip some because they didn’t have the time. Eventually, they reached Luhan’s father.

“Was he good?” Sehun asked.

“A good ruler of hell? Yes. A good demon? Those don’t exist, Sehun,” Jongdae said.

“Okay,” Sehun said, though from his bright tone, Jongdae wasn’t sure if he had managed to convince him.

“Then this must be Luhan,” Sehun said, moving onto the last portrait, “but why is it covered with a curtain?”

Jongdae was about to explain before he saw Sunmi approach them.

“Oh, you’re here?” she asked before reaching out to brush the curtain with her hand and shake it. It was incredible how much dust eternity could collect.

“Yeah, just showing Sehun the Lus,” Jongdae said.

“Luhan’s the best Lu obviously,” she said, checking the curtain once more before removing her hand. Jongdae had caught her many times trying to pull the curtain away, but if Luhan wanted it covered, then it’d stay covered.

“He’s not like Lucifer at all,” Sehun said, “I’ll like it here.”

“How would you know what Lucifer’s like? None of us do. As if we’d ever want to visit him,” Sunmi squeezing herself between Sehun and Jongdae. She linked her arms through theirs and led them through the flickering hallways.

“Stories,” Jongdae hastily said, “You know…what everyone says. And it’s not like no one knows what he’s done.”

“He created the Lus,” Sunmi said, “that’s not too bad.”

“He’s done worse,” Jongdae said. He didn’t have to peek over at Sehun to know what his expression must’ve looked like.

“He’s a demon. What else did you expect from him?” Sunmi asked, “What else should be expected from us?”

Jongdae let that conversation die and let Sunmi lead them to the dining room. Inside, music was already sounding, demons were already on the dance floor. The headless demon was around juggling objects with his head again while others gambled in the back tables.

Jongdae didn’t know what to expect, but Sehun smiling at everyone and everything seemed just about right.

“You know,” Luhan said when they approached the table, “It’s odd you don’t have your shadows yet.”

“It’s the cloak,” Sehun said, waiting for Jongdae to choose a seat before he sat beside him, “It hides everything.”

“Then take the cloak off,” Luhan said, “All this darkness hurts my eyes. It’s too dim.”

“Then make your own light,” Jongdae said, putting his hand on Sehun’s lap just in case he was thinking of actually listening to Luhan.

Luhan sighed and propped his elbows up on the tables and rested his head in his hands.

“Hell’s always been dark. If I make more light, then it’s not home,” he said.

“Then stop complaining about everything being too dim,” Joy said as she took a delicate bite of the roast beef.

“It’s not like you’re here to listen to me anyways, Joy,” Luhan said, “you’re in the fields too often.”

“I’m leaving again tomorrow,” Joy said without looking at him, causing Luhan to sit up straight and splutter.

“Tomorrow?” he said, “But you were just there.”

“My dead are clingy,” Joy said, cutting another small bite of her food, “It’s not like I’d go if they didn’t ask me.”

“But most of them don’t speak,” Yeri said, “who asked you to go?”

Joy stayed silent.

“It’s okay,” Sehun said, “I’ve been there. I know.”

Joy didn’t ask him what he might’ve meant by that, but she looked at him once before averting her gaze.

“How do you like hell anyways now that you’ve seen the castle?” Sunmi turned to Sehun, obviously trying to change the conversation.

“It’s been very pleasant. Very nice. I like it here,” Sehun nodded. Jongdae forgot to give him the no nice words talk.

“Oh, we’re not nice,” Joy said as she piled an extra slice of roast beef onto Yeri’s plate.

“Try again,” Sunmi said, picking up Sehun’s napkin after it had fallen off of his lap.

“We don’t care,” Luhan said, nodding at the server after she poured him another glass of wine, “Demons don’t care.”

Sehun looked like he didn’t believe them, but just shrugged and turned back to Jongdae. Jongdae had to remind himself to tear his gaze away and force the corners of his lips down. Staring wasn’t a sin, but it was when Sehun was an angel. Smiling wasn’t a sin, but it was if he could’ve seen the glances Luhan gave him. Loving wasn’t a sin, but it was when sins were committed for love’s sake. But Jongdae wasn’t worried because his heart was not there yet.

Or so he thought.

“Jongdae, after dinner, come to my room. I want to paint again,” Luhan said.

“I was going to show Sehun the rest of the castle and then show him where he’ll be staying,” Jongdae said, picking up his glass to take a sip of his wine.

“So you’ll show me your room?” Sehun said so casually.

Jongdae choked on his wine and coughed. It wasn’t painful, but Sehun still placed his hand on him anyways.

“Can’t I stay with you Jongdae?” Sehun smiled. The others stared.

“What the fuck type of demon are you really?” Luhan asked, looking like he was between laughing and sneering. “Who the _fuck?_ ”

“What, you really want me to believe that you demons don’t care for companionship?” Sehun said.

“Yeah,” Sunmi said as she leaned her head on Joy’s shoulder.

Sehun laughed.

“Okay,” Sehun shrugged, “so you think you don’t. But I do, and I’ll stay with Jongdae. If that’s okay with him.”

Everyone’s eyes were on him, but Jongdae only had eyes for Sehun.

“Yes,” Jongdae said, “you can move out when you get tired of me. I’ve been told I snore.”

“Don’t worry,” Sehun cheerfully said, “I’m sure I won’t.”

“Eternity is eternity,” Luhan said, glancing at the both of them, “if you get tired of this, you can’t really escape each other unless you exile yourself into the fields. Look how it is now.”

That statement dampened the mood, causing Sunmi to straighten up away from Joy.

“If eternity is eternity,” Sehun said, “then there is time to talk everything through. To understand each other and come together once again.”

“It’s not silent. We still talk,” Yeri said. Jongdae couldn’t look at anyone anymore and suddenly thought his collar felt a little too tight.

But it wasn’t the same.

Luhan stood up and threw his napkin on the table.

“I’ve had enough of this. Jongdae, last call. Are you joining me now or really spending time with…him?” Luhan asked Jongdae.

“Later,” Jongdae said, “I’ll find time for it later.”

Luhan glared at Sehun before striding out the door, his black wings spreading out behind him.

But there was a certain feeling that nagged Jongdae as he led Sehun through the hallways to his room. He had always spent time with Luhan even after they had fought. He had always sat together with him by the fire, took his wine away and made him retire. People changed, but time did not.

Something did not feel right.

After spending his whole existence with Luhan like this, he could feel the effects of routine schedules stop him in his tracks just as they reached his room.

“I’ll check on Luhan once, okay? Stay here,” Jongdae said, opening the door for Sehun, “Make yourself comfortable. Anything you want is yours.”

“Thank you,” Sehun smiled, “Luhan’s lucky to have you. You care so much.”

“If only Luhan could think like you, right?” Jongdae briefly smiled. He glanced at Sehun one more time before he left.

When he reached Luhan’s room, he barged in without knocking. Luhan sat on his bed and stared silently as Jongdae approached. He didn’t drink tonight, and the wine bottles lay sealed and corked in his cabinet. When he sat like this, messy hair disheveled, black wings drooping, he looked younger. Less marred by time. Less scarred by the burdens of his throne.

“You really can’t stay away for a day, can’t you,” Luhan shook his head, “That would’ve given both of us a break from pretending.”

“What’s there to pretend?” Jongdae said even though he knew, “You’re the one that asked me to come. Are you painting now?”

“I’ll find time for it later,” Luhan huffed, crossing his arms around his chest.

“Okay, then I’ll head back now,” Jongdae said, pointing behind him.

“If you’re already here, then what’s the point in going back now?” Luhan hastily said, half-rising off of his bed.

“You’re too clingy,” Jongdae said, sitting on the bed and facing him, “What would you do without me?”

“What would _you_ do without me?” Luhan said, “I have every right to throw you into a fire pit forever, but I didn’t. You should be thanking me.”

Jongdae laughed, and maybe it was out of habit now after Sehun, but it was so easy to smile now. His smile drooped slightly when Luhan stared at him, not returning it. But he didn’t feel any less empty.

“You don’t look happier,” Luhan said.

“I will when the collar’s off,” Jongdae said.

“But you do look…freer,” Luhan said after a slight pause, “even if you’re not. Is it Sehun?”

“It’s the month you told me,” Jongdae said instead, “I have a month to go, and I’ll be free. It’s that hope you must be seeing.”

“I said I’d try,” Luhan said, tracing circles on his bed sheets, “There’s no guarantee. I don’t know if I can.”

“You once parted the sea and created a grove of golden trees for me,” Jongdae said, “I think you’re capable.”

“That was before things changed,” Luhan muttered, “Now I don’t think I’m so willing to help you.”

“But you still are,” Jongdae said before adding softly, “Good night, Luhan. Don’t drink so much wine. Your paintings look like shit when you do.”

“You fuck—” Luhan began to scowl before he sighed and shook his head, “Only you could get away with saying something like that.”

“Tomorrow I’ll be there to stand by you if you want to judge again,” Jongdae said, already walking out of Luhan’s door.

“Bring Sehun,” Luhan called out to him, “I’ll show him that part of hell. He should see for himself.”

Jongdae paused and kept his hand on the doorknob as he listened to Luhan speak. He nodded once before twisting open the door and exiting without looking back.

After a stroll through the halls, Jongdae entered his room to find Sehun with his golden wings out fluttering around his room. For a second, he watched before he hurriedly shut the door before anyone could peek in and see.

“You should be more careful,” Jongdae said, “What if someone saw?”

Sehun hovered in the air before gracefully landing right next to him.

“Don’t worry,” Sehun smiled, taking Jongdae in his arms and bending down to nestle his cheek in the crook of Jongdae’s neck. “No one saw.”

Jongdae sighed and waited a second before holding Sehun back. He had enough darkness, so he kept his eyes open, noticing the little details on Sehun’s golden feathers.

“Come,” Sehun said, leading Jongdae to the couch by the fireplace. After Jongdae took a seat, Sehun scooted next to him, spread out his wings, and tucked him into his side. Jongdae glanced at Sehun’s wing that brushed against his shoulder before beginning to press himself closer, dangerously close to Sehun. But he hovered before he could land, hesitating, pulling back before he could pull forwards.

“You can lean on me if you want,” Sehun said, noticing what Jongdae tried to do, bending his wing to push Jongdae in closer. Jongdae took that as his invitation and leaned on Sehun’s shoulder without any further hesitation.

“How do you like this so far? Luhan’s place?” Jongdae asked as they watched the fire dance in front of them.

“I like it,” Sehun said, “Everyone’s very sweet.”

Jongdae chuckled.

“You haven’t seen us at our worst,” Jongdae said, “We’ve mellowed out with time. We were terrible when we were young, always running around making trouble, creating chaos, wreaking havoc on this place. Luhan’s father didn’t know what to do with us.”

“What are you now?” Sehun asked.

“I don’t know,” Jongdae honestly said after a pause, “It’s like the old times, but not. Things seem the same. But they’re not. We’re not.”

“Maybe if you talked to each other and told Luhan the truth—” Sehun began to say.

“The truth would kill him,” Jongdae said, “it really would. If he knew he could’ve stepped off the throne before he even sat there, it would destroy him.”

“But this is destroying you all,” Sehun said, “isn’t it better to tell him what your heart means?”

“When I’m free from this collar, I think everything will be better,” Jongdae said, trying to pull the collar off again. Unsuccessfully. “It’s killing us all.”

“You think,” Sehun said, “But do you know?”

Jongdae hummed, and Sehun dropped the subject. They sat in silence for a while, and Jongdae found himself growing drowsy, soothed by the fire in front of him, the fire burning in him. When he felt a hand cradle the side of his face, Jongdae closed his eyes.

“I can’t speak for the dead,” Sehun softly said, “but from what I’ve seen and who I’ve been with…I think I could stay here with you for the rest of eternity.”

“Eternity’s a long time,” Jongdae said and opened his eyes, shifting, squirming as he tried to be more comfortable. He slowly moved his hand over Sehun’s body, glancing over at Sehun to watch his expression. Sehun smiled and nodded before Jongdae finally rested his hand over Sehun’s waist and snuggled in tighter.

“But even then that won’t be enough time,” Sehun sighed, “I want too much. I feel too much. I guess because I missed too much when I was locked away.”

“That’ll never happen again,” Jongdae said, tilting his head to peek up at Sehun. When he noticed Sehun’s downcast look, he straightened up and gently tilted Sehun’s chin up with a finger. “I promise.”

Sehun looked at Jongdae and reached up to catch his hand and held it tightly.

“I think I would trade another eternity in the cage in return for your collar gone,” Sehun said, taking a shaky breath, “I think I really would.”

Jongdae blinked, pausing to consider the weight of Sehun’s words.

“No,” Jongdae insisted, shaking his head, “Never again. You’ve already suffered. Luhan has the cage. I’ll be free soon, so don’t even think about that. I’d fight anyone who tries to put you back there. I’ll die before that happens.”

“Don’t die,” Sehun said in a very small voice. In this light, he looked young, younger than he really was. With this tone of voice, he sounded small, smaller than he really was.

“I won’t, so don’t worry,” Jongdae said, “And besides. We can’t really die. Not really. That’s the good part about being a demon at least. If we’re destroyed, then we’ll just come back, be reborn in the fire like nothing ever happened.”

“How long would that take?” Sehun asked.

“I don’t really know,” Jongdae said, “It’s never happened to me. Usually it happens to the minor demons tasked with visiting Earth. Demon hunters usually kill them before they can succeed sometimes…what a nasty group of humans…But it could be anywhere from a day—”

“Oh, that’s not bad at all!” Sehun said, letting out a relieved sigh.

“To thousands and thousands of years,” Jongdae finished.

“Oh,” Sehun said. He stared blankly into the fire, and while he said nothing, he suddenly pulled Jongdae onto his lap, holding him as tightly as he could. He hid his face in Jongdae’s chest and balled his fists around Jongdae’s shirt.

“What’s wrong now?” Jongdae said, letting his fingers rest on the top of Sehuns’ head as he softly smoothed his hair, “Sehun?”

“Please don’t leave me alone again,” Sehun said, his voice muffled.

Jongdae hummed, held Sehun as tightly as he could without suffocating him and promised he wouldn’t. He really wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

           

 

ϟ 

 

 

While ruling hell, some Lus didn’t bother to measure the days that passed by creating suns that set or moons that rose. Time passed without any indication of how long, how much existence was lived. But Luhan was not one of those Lus, and though the red moon hung perpetually in the sky for him, he insisted on having the structure of days and nights.

So the next day after breakfast, he called Jongdae and Sehun to the throne room, saying it would be good for Sehun to see what hell really was.

“There’s so many dead souls,” Sehun said as he took his place next to Jongdae, “can’t there be a single day without anyone dying on earth?”

“I wish. It’d make my job so much easier,” Luhan said before commanding the first soul to approach.

While this dead soul didn’t bother asking if this was purgatory or hell, she only wept loudly, her shoulders shaking, her hands covering her face.

“Fields,” Luhan said as two demons prepared to take her away.

“Sorry! I’ve been there, but it’s not that bad. You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt,” Sehun called out. Luhan turned to look at Sehun oddly before shifting his attention to the next soul.

Sehun continued comforting the souls taken away, continued to apologize to every dead person here that it was okay that they were dead, that they shouldn’t worry about the fields because it was fine. He didn’t have any words for the people sent to torture division. Nobody really did. But as Sehun continued to speak to soul after soul, a scowl deepened on Luhan’s face until he finally interrupted Sehun.

“Stop. That…just _stop_ ,” Luhan commanded. To his credit, Luhan kept his voice even. He would’ve yelled if it had been any other demon. “There are no sorries here.”

“Why not?” Sehun asked, unbothered by Luhan’s behavior, by Luhan’s dark gaze. “I’m sorry they’re dead. I can’t imagine what it must be like for them.”

“Just because,” Luhan said, his fists curling up over the arm of his chair.

“Why not?” Sehun asked.

“Because I said so,” Luhan said unfazed.

“Why not? Why?” Sehun asked again, bending down to poke Luhan’s arm. Jongdae bit back an amused laugh as he watched Luhan’s face grow red.

“Because you have nothing to be sorry about, and these people deserve it,” Luhan said through gritted teeth, as if it pained him to speak this softly, this patiently.

“Okay,” Sehun said. But that didn’t stop him from wishing the next person well and saying that he hoped their time here would be as short as possible. Neither Luhan nor Jongdae could tell him that there was no confirmed way to escape from here. Luhan had the heart, but kept his mouth shut because he had better things to do than tell Sehun otherwise. Jongdae didn’t have the heart because he had already given it away.

After a while, the doors swung open and Sunmi entered, causing the flames to dance as she passed them.

“Sehun,” she called out, “Come spend the day with me. Enough of this line, these dead souls.”

“What,” Luhan said, leaning from his throne, “Not even a hello for me?”

“I see you all the time,” Sunmi said, tossing her hair back. Today, half of it was held up with a clip studded with little glittering gems. “I’ve lived with you all this time. If we never say good-bye, do we have to say hello?”

“Still,” Luhan said, “why—”

“Don’t worry, Jongdae,” Sunmi interrupted Luhan after she noticed something in Jongdae’s expression, “I won’t bite.”

“I’m not worried about you,” Jongdae said, “Keep the other demons away from him.”

“Of course,” Sunmi smiled, looping her hand through Sehun’s arm, “You know I won’t hesitate to stab anyone for those I’m fond of.”

“And I’ve grown fond of you, Sehun,” she continued, looking up at Sehun with a smile. Sehun’s eyes crinkled up into half crescent moons, causing Jongdae’s lips to curl up.

“What the fuck,” Luhan muttered, casting them all another glance before turning back to the line, “ _Anyways_ …the abyss for you. Next.”

“I’ll see you later,” Sehun said, turning to Jongdae to touch his arm gently. Jongdae nodded and watched as Sunmi led Sehun through the doors, not even noticing the pointed gaze Luhan gave him.

Not even seconds after the door shut, Luhan turned to Jongdae for a moment and let out a huff.

“There’s something wrong with him,” Luhan said.

“No,” Jongdae said. The less he spoke, the less Luhan could pry apart his words.

“No, really,” Luhan said, “Do you hear the way he speaks? See the way he acts? He’s too…”

Luhan gestured vaguely into the air. A demon mistook the movement for a command and strode across the hallway to drag the next soul off.

“Oh, that one’s going to the fields,” Luhan called out loudly before sinking back into his seat. 

“He’s not like us,” Luhan said again.

“Maybe all that time he spent in the fields made him kind. He’s a kind demon,” Jongdae said, carefully watching Luhan’s expression for any sign of realization.

“Demons aren’t kind,” Luhan scoffed, “and no one spends that much time in the fields without losing themselves. It’s strange.”

“Well, Sehun’s like us,” Jongdae said. No one could convince Luhan of anything he didn’t want to believe, but he’d still try. “He enjoys dinnertime, drinking wine, seeing your paintings, and listening to the music.”

“Everyone does,” Luhan said, raising his hand out to beckon the next soul to come closer.

“So Sehun’s not different,” Jongdae said, “He even pulls me out to dance to the strange music you have the musicians play.”

Jongdae continued to insist that Sehun hated Lucifer just like all the others, that Sehun was ready to look after his own group of dead just like all the others, that Sehun had been absolutely born from the fire. Just like the others. Luhan listened, argued back and forth and picked apart Jongdae’s words until they left the line and headed back to Luhan’s room.

“I’m going to see Sehun now,” Jongdae said, standing up after seeing that Luhan looked comfortable enough by himself.

“It’s always Sehun this, Sehun that,” Luhan said all of a sudden as he sat on his armchair next to the fire, pulling his sketchbook onto his lap, “what about…me?”

He crossed his arms and turned away. Jongdae bit back a laugh, resisting the urge to say that Luhan had started the conversation after all. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Luhan was perhaps a two hundred year old baby instead of the thousands of years old Lu.

“You’ve had me for my whole life. I think you’ll be fine for a couple of hours. Or do I need to find a temporary babysitter for you whenever I leave for a few moments?” Jongdae asked.

“No,” Luhan grumbled, “just tell someone to leave an extra bottle of wine and I’ll always be fine.

“You’ll drink yourself away to an untimely death,” Jongdae said, “Then I’d have to sit by the flames and ashes until you come back. How terrible that’d be for both of us.”

“Good,” Luhan said, though his expression softened, “That would be a nice break.”

Jongdae left him sitting by the fire alone with a glass of wine in one hand, a sketchpad in the other. He couldn’t make out the harsh, bold lines Luhan drew, but before he went back to his own room, he told a server to send up a bottle of grape juice for Luhan.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Sehun settled in faster and easier than Jongdae thought, and there was less hostility, less suspicion towards Sehun than Jongdae expected. As he found Sehun strolling through the castle with Sunmi, not a single other demon looked at him twice or even so much breathed oddly in his direction. Jongdae leaned on a wall to watch them.

“I should pierce your ears one day,” Sunmi said, reaching up to lightly pinch Sehun’s ear, “All demons have some piercings.”

“Okay,” Sehun said, “I’d like that, if that’s what you want.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t do it if you don’t want it,” Sunmi smiled, “What do you want? Anything at all…what do you want now?”

“What I want?” Sehun asked, blinking, “I want to know where I belong.”

“Isn’t it hell?” Sunmi asked, moving to grip the edges of Sehun’s cloak. Jongdae’s heart almost stopped, but Sunmi only pulled the edges tighter around Sehun’s shoulders. “Since you were born here.”

“Where I was born doesn’t mean it's where I belong,” Sehun said, “But I already know who I belong with. It’s just where. And what. What was I meant to do. Where am I supposed to be that I don't know.”

“Well, when you find out, tell me,” Sunmi said, patting his shoulder, “I threw away who I belong with.”

“No you haven’t,” Sehun shook his head, “Jongdae, Luhan, Joy, and Yeri are still here.”

“Oh, Sehun,” Sunmi said, dropping her gaze to the floor, “you’re too sweet to be here. You don’t know what I know. You don’t know who I threw away.”

Sehun reached out to touch her shoulder, and Sunmi sighed.

“If you ever want your ears pierced, come find me,” Sunmi said, tapping Sehun’s shoulder lightly before walking away, her billowy skirts wafting slowly as she walked. Sehun watched her go.

Jongdae took that as his cue and slunk out of the shadows softly. It was not as soft as Jongdae had hoped, as Sehun immediately turned to greet him with a smile.

“You heard all of that, didn’t you?” Sehun asked, already reaching out to hold Jongdae’s hand.

“Just the end,” Jongdae said, curling his fingers around Sehun’s hand.

“Who did she throw away?” Sehun asked, “She doesn’t seem like the type.”

“Remember the demon who I tempted to seize Luhan’s throne? Him,” Jongdae said, looking around to make sure no one was listening in, “but her side of the story might be different than what I know. I shouldn’t try to explain what I didn’t experience.”

“Then you should tell them what you felt. Why you did what you did,” Sehun encouraged.

Jongdae did consider doing so years and years ago. But the time for that would have been before the war, before he changed everything, and after everything changed. Now was not the time.

“Would anything change then? It’s been so long. The time to talk is long past over,” Jongdae said.

“That’s the thing about eternity,” Sehun said, swinging their hands together as they continued to slowly walk down the hall. For a second, Jongdae was tempted to ask Sehun to reveal his wings to show these tiny candles and little flames what real light was like. “It’s never too late because you have all the time and no time in the world. If you took away the clocks, then years could feel like seconds. A past second could feel like years. Seize eternity and do what you want with it.”

“Did the years you spent in the cage feel like a second?” Jongdae asked. He wasn’t sure if he should have brought up the topic, but he was prepared to excuse himself and say never mind at the first sign of discomfort.

“No,” Sehun admitted, “I wasted all those years there, but I have all the time ahead of me now because I’m finally free. I think it’s finally time I do what I want. See who I want. Love who I want.”

“Good,” Jongdae smiled, “if by some chance you really do stay—”

“I think I will,” Sehun said with a firm nod, “Oh, I will.”

“Then I’m sure there are things you can do. We can assign you some dead. They’d be lucky to have you care for them,” Jongdae said as they turned a corner into a brighter hall, “or we can find you other things to do. Anything you want.”

Sehun smiled, kissed his cheek, and Jongdae realized he had chosen.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

For the next few days, Luhan insisted that Jongdae should bring Sehun with him everywhere they went. Jongdae wanted to believe that it was because Luhan wanted him at his side at all times, and if having Sehun with them was the only way to do it, then so be it. But that couldn’t be because why would Luhan want anything to do with him. A traitor. 

Luhan showed Sehun his paintings as Sehun marveled over them. Then he showed Sehun where he kept the wine, explaining that there was at least one hidden bottle in every room before Sehun lightly chided him for drinking too much. That was when Luhan reached out, uncorked the nearest wine bottle with a pop, and took a swig, daring Sehun to stop him.

Mostly they stood outside and sorted souls. Luhan did not seem to have the energy left to tell Sehun that he shouldn’t speak to them like that…with that much compassion and empathy many of them did not deserve. Sehun continued anyways, and Luhan continued gritting his teeth. But never once did he yell.

That didn’t mean Jongdae was any less cautious when Sehun was around Luhan, any less suspicious. He was worried that every time Sehun quickly moved his arm that the cloak would rustle and billow upwards to reveal a golden light that could not have come from here. He was worried that Sehun would accidentally slip and refer to the past times as _when I was in heaven_. He was worried that Luhan would know without having to have been told because he was a Lu. Not all-knowing, but close enough.

But the day had come for his collar to pain him, and both Jongdae and Luhan knew.

“Please,” Jongdae said, quietly pulling Luhan aside as a demon stopped to offer Sehun some food as they were passing by the kitchen, “It’s good of you to show Sehun around, but can we do this without him?”

“Why not?” Luhan asked, shrugging Jongdae off immediately, “scared he’ll leave you as soon as he sees you in that much pain?”

“Don’t do this in front of him,” Jongdae repeated. He kept his hand hovering over Luhan’s shoulder but did not try again.

“He’s a _demon_ ,” Luhan said, jabbing Jongdae’s chest, “He can handle pain. He’s supposed to.”

“We don’t all start out like that,” Jongdae said, taking a quick glance to make sure Sehun was still preoccupied with the other demon, “Remember when you hid your face when your father showed you the fields of torture when you were younger?”

Luhan’s face twisted up, and he let out a dark chuckle.

“Then it’s time Sehun sees something that’ll show him what it’s really like to live in hell. Bring him to my room when it’s time, Jongdae,” Luhan said before brushing past him.

He stormed away, didn’t even acknowledge the demons who had poked their heads out of their kitchen to say hello, and disappeared into the dark hallway. Sehun watched him for a second more before coming back to Jongdae’s side.

“What’s wrong?” Sehun asked Jongdae, noticing his expression.

“Nothing,” Jongdae said, staring ahead, “Nothing at all.”

But with every step he took and with every second he lost, Jongdae felt the same, exactly the same as he felt last week and the week before the last, and the weeks before the last. Anticipation for the worst. It was not a pain anyone could prepare for, and Jongdae was always taken off guard when the first second passed and he was on the floor writhing in agony. Jongdae knew what Sehun would try to do if he saw him like this again, and he refused to share that pain. Sehun should not be hurt like this, not in the same way.

Jongdae was on edge the whole day, snapping at anyone who got too close to them, only backing down when he felt Sehun pull him back. Luhan couldn’t look at Jongdae either, but Jongdae was used to it by now. And when it was finally time, Jongdae could only imagine what he looked like as he walked into Luhan’s room. Luhan put his arm around Sehun’s shoulder and led him ahead.

“Go ahead to the window. Tell me what you see,” Luhan said. Sehun nodded and headed to the window.

Luhan pulled Jongdae aside and pressed a heavy hand on Jongdae’s shoulder

“Relax, Jongdae. Stay behind there,” Luhan said, though he was still unable to meet Jongdae’s gaze, “I only want to show Sehun what’s really here.”

Luhan then left Jongdae alone to join Sehun by the window. With a sigh, Jongdae sagged to his knees and was glad that at least Sehun wouldn’t see as he heard Luhan tell Sehun to not look behind him for now.

“Does that line ever get shorter?” Sehun asked, tapping the glass with a finger.

“Never,” Luhan lied, “People die all the time. I’m used to it by now.”

“Do you ever get tired of these sights?” Sehun asked, finally pressing a whole hand against the window.

“Never,” Luhan said, “I designed it after all. There’s a new fire pattern in the sky all the time.”

“Do you ever want anything more than this?” Sehun asked.

Luhan shifted uncomfortably and refused to answer.

“After everything I’ve shown you, do you know what being a demon means now?” Luhan asked instead.

Jongdae could feel the seconds ticking down. He was not resigned to his fate and tried pulling off his collar, desperately trying to do anything to free himself from it before it was time. As if that ever worked. But trying anything was better than doing nothing except wait for the pain. At least Jongdae could say he never stopped fighting even when it was easier to lie down and die.

“Yes,” Sehun said, “It’s to be kind to those who didn’t make it to heaven. This must be a purgatory if you send so many people to the fields.”

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Luhan sighed, “No…To be a demon is to not be sorry.”

Suddenly, Jongdae felt a slicing, searing pain from the collar, and in a suffocating panic, slumped to the floor as his fingers grasped at the collar, his expression contorting in pain. He saw from the corner of his eyes Sehun try to turn around before Luhan pushed him back to the window.

“This is who you are. You can’t change. People expect the worst of us, so why should we be sorry?” Luhan said, standing with a hand gripped on Sehun’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t turn around.

Jongdae never liked vocalizing his pain in front of Luhan anyways and gritted his teeth just like always, curled up into himself like always, and tried to ride the pain out. But there was no fluctuation, no waves or periods of dampened relief. There was only pain, only tears he tried to stop from spilling out onto his cheeks.

“Patron demons reassure their dead,” Luhan continued, “You are here because you chose. Maybe it wasn’t the right choice, but it’s too late to be sorry.”

“But you should say sorry if you really did hurt someone,” Sehun said, “If they reflect on themselves and are sorry, then shouldn’t they be allowed to leave?”

Jongdae’s body jerked, and he slammed a fist on the ground, breathing as slowly and as evenly as possible. Who liked pain? Who willingly wanted to suffer? Jongdae then pictured an overwhelming image of Sehun suffering alone in the cage. He hadn’t been harmed physically, maybe a little cramped and pushed and slightly suffocated in the cage, but he had been so lonely. At least Jongdae could suffer here with the others, but Sehun had no one all that time? How had he survived?

“What’s the use of saying sorry if you can’t even say it directly to the faces of the people they’ve hurt? We’re in here. Hell. Most people that these souls have hurt and wronged aren’t even here. So the only thing you can do is not regret.”

Perhaps the thought of Sehun suffering was too much, and as Jongdae clawed at the floor, he couldn’t help but let out a strangled cry. After years of keeping it in with Luhan, a half-scream, half-sob tore out of his throat, causing the both of them to turn around.

Luhan stared wide-eyed at Jongdae for a single second before turning back around to face the window. At this point, Jongdae couldn’t register anything else except the heavy footsteps that seemed closer and closer. Sehun.

A single, screamed order managed to stop Sehun in his tracks.

“Don’t,” Luhan yelled, “I told you to stay by the window and not look back.”

“What?” Sehun said, and the floor seemed to shake, as if Sehun was bouncing on his toes, impatient to move, to run, to fly over. “You looked, too.”

“It was a mistake,” Luhan said.

“But that’s _Jongdae_ ,” Sehun said, raising his voice, “I will always go to him if you won’t.”

No matter what else Luhan said, Sehun went, and despite Jongdae’s weak attempts to push Sehun’s hands away, Sehun lay down beside him, pressed his body close, and comforted him.

Instantly, half the pain was gone, and it was with shaky relief that Jongdae felt tears streak down his cheek as he clenched his jaw. The worst was gone, but this half left was still too terrible to bear.

Luhan didn’t move a single step, but Jongdae pictured him staring out the window, hiding his balled up fists in his pockets as he stared out at the fire. As he spoke, his voice floated in, seeming further away than it truly was. Maybe it was the pain.

“Don’t look back. Don’t regret,” Luhan continued his speech to himself. His voice was softer, but in a room with nothing but pain, it was the only thing Jongdae heard. Sehun was the only one he felt. “You are where you are and who you are because you chose, and because you chose, you shouldn’t be sorry about who you are.”

Jongdae wasn’t sorry, not in the slightest bit sorry for what he had done because it had all been for Luhan. If only he had been stronger, wiser, better, then maybe things would be different. Maybe Jongdae’s problem was that he was not as selfish as he should’ve been. Demons didn’t self-sacrifice. That never happened. Every thing they stole for others they’d steal for themselves. Everyone they hurt for others, they hurt for themselves. Everyone they loved, they loved for themselves and only themselves.

“They say that sinners are sent here because they’re the worst of the worst,” Luhan said. He sounded younger than he really was, older than he really was, but just as weary and just as tired as Jongdae thought he was. “But who remembers the man sent here for killing someone who hurt his children? Who remembers the woman who snapped and killed someone she trusted for hurting her for years and years and years? Who remembers those who’ve done terrible things for their loved ones? Themselves? Should they be sorry?”

Looking back, remembering all that he had done, all that had happened, Jongdae really was sorry. He was.

But it was not for what Luhan believed he had done.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae was used to picking himself off the floor and immediately acting like he hadn’t just suffered the worst of the worst afterwards. No breaks. No time to think. No more time to hurt. But Sehun insisted on keeping him in bed, fretting over him for the whole night and next morning. He held Jongdae in his arms, and while Jongdae swore the collar didn’t pain him any longer, who was he to deny this? Who was he to deny Sehun?

“What do you want, Jongdae?” Sehun asked, brushing Jongdae’s bangs from his face. He sat above him now with his wings spread out to shield Jongdae from the dimness around the room. “Anything you want, I’ll get you. Water? Food?”

“You go around calling everyone kind. But look at yourself, Sehun,” Jongdae said. He blinked up at Sehun hovering above him and reached out a hand as if he was reaching for a star. His eyes fluttered when he touched the side of Sehun’s face before he closed them. It was dark again, but he kept that image of Sehun in his mind and breathed.

“You felt half that pain, too,” Jongdae said, moving his thumb over Sehun’s cheek, “I should be worrying about you. But here you are.”

“Here I am,” Sehun said in such a sweet tone that caused Jongdae’s eyes to fly open, “And I’ll do it again. And again. And again. Until you’re free.”

“You don’t have to,” Jongdae weakly said, “please don’t. This is too much pain for you to bear.”

“Then think of yourself,” Sehun insisted, “I thought you said demons were selfish. Be selfish and let me help you feel less.”

But Sehun already made his heart feel more. Feel fuller.

“This is the last time until the full moon,” Jongdae said, “I’ll make sure that that it will be the last so you don’t worry about me.”

“It’s so soon,” Sehun smiled, “just think…you’ll be free soon. How many years did you suffer this alone?”

“Five hundred,” Jongdae said. It was easier to speak about this now. “I would have had five hundred more to go.”

“Wait a little longer,” Sehun said, his wings fluttering slightly, making the shadows dance around them, “You’re almost free, and when you are, I’ll reach my hand out like you did to me, and take you for your first cageless flight.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Jongdae sighed.

“So tell me now,” Sehun said, “What do you want? Breakfast? You didn’t eat yet.”

“I’ll have whatever you want,” Jongdae said, dropping his hand from Sehun’s face. Sehun caught his hand, lacing his fingers through his. “Choose something you like eating, and I’ll be fine.”

“Really?” Sehun asked before grinning, “I’ll bring a whole cart. The cooks like me there, so I can ask for more.”

Sehun slipped out of Jongdae’s grasp, running for the door, but not before Jongdae called out with a laugh, _Sehun your wings!_ Sehun stopped in his tracks, sheepishly folding his wings and securing the cloak around his shoulders before promising he wouldn’t be gone long. Jongdae watched him go before closing his eyes again.

Eternity was eternity, but if every morning could be as sweet as this, as bright as this, then he wouldn’t mind being out of time, not knowing how many seconds passed and just. Existing.

He could feel himself drifting off to sleep once again, but the sound of the door opening shook him from his drowsiness.

“Oh, you’re back again?” Jongdae asked, “Already?”

“What are you talking about?” answered another voice, causing Jongdae to open his eyes. Wings hovered over him, but they cast a shadow and brought more darkness this time.

Luhan.

Jongdae didn’t answer, just blinked up at Luhan who crossed his hands over his chest. Though his clothes were a little ruffled, not a hair was out of place.

“Oh. You thought I was Sehun, right?” Luhan shook his head before plopping down on the bed. Jongdae pulled himself up and sat. Luhan immediately pouted, and Jongdae could already guess what he would say.

“You didn’t bring me breakfast today,” Luhan said. Jongdae laughed. Of course. “I had to go all the way down to the hall by myself. Do you know what types of demons are there at that time in the morning? Horrifying. Who even wakes up that early.”

“You came in here to ask about breakfast?” Jongdae asked, scooting over to give Luhan more room, “You’re so needy.”

“I rule hell,” Luhan said, putting both of his feet onto the bed, “I better take advantage of it. You never know when I might retire. Maybe soon.”

“Or not,” Jongdae said, causing a wrinkle to form in Luhan’s face, “You never know.”

“You might not be free from your collar either,” Luhan said, “Have you ever thought of that.”

“Or I will,” Jongdae said. But he did think of that. He thought of that all the time.

“Sehun will be back with breakfast,” Jongdae said after a brief moment of silence, “You can stay if you want. Sehun likes you.”

“He’s an odd one,” Luhan said, his fingers tracing unknowable patterns onto the bed sheets, “Why did you pick him up on the way back? You could’ve left him in hell. Demons find their way sooner or later. There’s enough time for that.”

“He was lonely,” Jongdae said, finding the right wrong words to say, “so I brought him back so he could be around other demons.”

“No,” Luhan laughed, “I think you know why you brought him back. It’s obvious. Does time seem like it’s stopped for you?”

Jongdae didn’t answer.

“Or is time always moving?” Luhan asked, prodding Jongdae’s leg with almost every word he said, “Because a moment is not enough? Because a second without him seems like five thousand years and five thousand years seem like a second with him?”

Jongdae couldn’t answer, but his heart did, and if Luhan pressed his hand against his throat, he would feel what Jongdae felt. But Luhan didn’t need to. He never did. All he had to do was look at Jongdae and know. He knew Jongdae better than anyone, so Jongdae wondered why he didn’t understand what Sehun did so easily.

“Jongdae, do you hate me?” Luhan said all of the sudden, causing a frown to pull down on Jongdae’s lips.

He thought about all the things Luhan had done. Turned his back on him when the collar pained him. Pushed his hand off of him when all Jongdae wanted to do was comfort him. Pretended like it was the past before quickly changing his mood and refusing to ever want to see him again.

“No,” Jongdae said anyways.

“But you have every right to,” Luhan said, flicking Jongdae’s collar with a finger.

“Well, I could ask the same thing. Do you hate me?” Jongdae said, flicking Luhan’s forehead, “You have every right to.”

Luhan’s hand immediately rushed up to rub his forehead.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Luhan said, the ghost of a laugh etched on his face, “I bet you’re dying to know if there’s a chance I don’t after everything.”

Jongdae remembered the past. He remembered how Luhan had greeted him with a smile when Jongdae awoke from the ashes as a new demon, how Luhan had picked a fight with a demon three times his size when they were still babies because he had picked up Jongdae and dangled him upside down off a balcony, how Luhan had created an island with golden trees for him in the middle of an ocean. How Luhan was there. Always. For eternity.

He didn’t think either of them had to say anything.

“I can make you hate me easily, Jongdae,” Luhan said, “Really. I can extinguish that fire from your heart. I don’t know why you don’t hate me, but you will.”

“I don’t know why you’d say this because you don’t hate me, too,” Jongdae dared to say. There was a finality in saying things out loud because they couldn’t be taken back.

He stared at Luhan, waiting for him to say he was wrong. Luhan didn’t answer.

“Head to the line later. I’m going there first,” Luhan said, getting off the bed. He was about to twist open the doorknob before he stopped, keeping his hand on the metal. Without looking back, he spoke.

“Sehun doesn’t belong here,” Luhan said, “You’d have to be blind not to see that. And when someone doesn’t belong somewhere, usually they leave. It’s only a matter of time until when, Jongdae. Don’t give your heart away only for you to never get it back.”

Jongdae had nothing to say and waited for the door to slam shut before he pulled his knees to his chest.

Luhan was right. Sehun didn’t belong here because he was from heaven and deserved to see brighter things than dead sinners and tortured souls. He deserved better than all of this. Not hell. Maybe not Jongdae either.

“Jongdae, I brought breakfast,”suddenly called a voice. As soon as the door slammed shut, Sehun locked it, checked it, and finally threw off his cloak. A brilliant light flooded the room, and this time, Jongdae raised out a hand to shield himself so it would not hurt his eyes. The cart rolled around the room before the wheels stopped turning.

Jongdae immediately straightened up, sliding a quick smile onto his face, but nothing could trick Sehun.

“Jongdae?” Sehun asked, sitting on the bed, his hands already reaching for Jongdae’s shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

To announce the time would be to change it. It was only morning if Luhan said it was morning. It was only dinnertime if Luhan said it was dinnertime. It was only time to go if Jongdae said it was time to go. It would be hard, but Jongdae had to know. To give Sehun the chance just in case.

“Do you want to leave? Is it time for you to leave?” Jongdae said before he could change his mind, “You don’t have to lie to spare me. It’s okay if you don’t want to stay here.”

“I’ll go if you come with me,” Sehun said without hesitating.

“But I’m a demon, Sehun,” Jongdae said, spreading his arms out, “Just look at me. I don’t fit in a place like that.”

“Yes you do,” Sehun insisted, “Yes you do. When they see what I see in you, then they’ll let you go anywhere you want.”

“You think too positively,” Jongdae said, hugging his knees tighter to his chest, “It’s impossible for me to leave.”

“But I’m here, right?” Sehun said, bending down to try and meet Jongdae’s dropped gaze, “So why is it impossible for you to go away, too?”

“Sehun, you don’t belong here,” Jongdae said, “You were taken, torn away from your other angels and forced to stay here. You didn’t have a choice, and you’re too good for this place.”

Sehun’s shoulders drooped and Jongdae wished he had phrased that better. Jongdae thought that would be the end of it, not prepared to take back his words, but then Sehun grabbed Jongdae’s hand.

“If you will not go, then I’ll stay here with you, Jongdae,” Sehun said, clasping Jongdae’s hand with both of his, I don’t know which place I belong to, but if I am by your side, any place will be fine. Heaven or not. Hell or not. It doesn’t matter where I go as long as you’re there.”

“Hell is no place for angels, and heaven is no place for demons like me,” Jongdae said, finally looking up, looking for any sign of a lie in Sehun’s countenance. There was none. And yet, he still could not believe. “It’s just how it’s always been. A demon can enter heaven only when hell freezes.”

“Then there has to be a place where both of us will be fine together. I’ll believe in it even if you don’t. I’ll believe in it until you will. For us,” Sehun insisted and finally brought Jongdae’s hand to his lips and kissed it.

Jongdae felt the skin of his hand buzz, his heart stutter in his chest, and his mind race with thoughts, all of them Sehun, Sehun, _Sehun_. The moon could bleed only if Luhan wanted it enough, but didn’t Jongdae know that this bright star could leap out of the sky only if he asked?    

“When you figure out where, I’ll go with you,” Jongdae said. Something kindled in his heart, and unlike the burning rage he hid and saved for another day, he welcomed these embers and allowed them to gently kindle.

He had spent his whole life in hell. Maybe it would be good to go elsewhere where time wasn’t measured by how many days until the next suffering, how many days until freedom, how many days until things would be back to normal. But did it exist. Did it really exist.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“Where’s purgatory?” another soul asked, “I can just go there, right?”

Luhan let out a deep sigh and slouched in his seat. He snapped his fingers at Jongdae before gesturing wordlessly at the soul.

“No,” Jongdae answered for him, “This is hell. It’s only a matter of which part of hell you’ll go to now.”

The soul erupted into a loud wail, flinging themselves on the floor. Luhan covered his face with his hands and slid down his seat. Sehun took this as his moment and bent down to whisper in Luhan’s ear.

“Hey,” Sehun said.

“What do you want, Sehun,” Luhan said, his voice muffled between his hands.

“I was just wondering,” Sehun began to say.

“Yes?” Luhan said, peeking one eye out of his hands to glance at Sehun. In front of them, the soul crawled towards Luhan, a chorus of pleases pouring out of their mouth. Demons stepped forwards to restrain the soul and pull them back to where they were supposed to wait.

“You can control anything you want, right?” Sehun said, “If you want more fire, then there’ll be more fire. If you want more light, then you’ll let there be light. Right?”

“Yeah,” Luhan said, sitting up straighter, furrowing his eyebrows, removing his fingers from his face, “Why?”

“You can even make the moon whatever shape or color you want. Right? But this red color’s already beautiful,” Sehun said. Jongdae noticed the careful way Sehun chose his words and hoped.

“What do you want?” Luhan said, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Please make the moon full,” Sehun said, “Skip ahead of time. Make it full now so Jongdae’s collar can be taken off now.”

Sehun bent closer and put his hand on Luhan’s shoulder. Jongdae was surprised that Luhan didn’t shake off Sehun’s touch. Luhan looked at Sehun a moment longer before laughing and turning back to the soul.

“Fields,” he said, snapping his fingers. The demons dragged the soul off, ignoring their cries.

“Please?” Sehun asked.

“Next,” Luhan loudly called out instead, refusing to look at Sehun who had begun to gently shake his shoulder.

“Heaven?” the next soul hopefully asked, trembling as they clasped their hands together.

“Get fucked,” Luhan snarled.

“Please?” Sehun asked, moving himself into Luhan’s line of vision. Jongdae glanced at Sehun’s expression for a moment and didn’t know how Luhan could resist. He had pushed his lower lip out, and his eyes had widened.

“Are you trying to act fucking cute or something?” Luhan scowled, “Why would that work on me?”

Across the room, the soul shrieked and ran towards them with arms stretched out.

“He doesn’t need to act,” Jongdae said, stepping forwards to push the soul back. The soul continued lunging at them with claws, apparently to strangle Luhan. But Jongdae would never allow that and turned his red eyes on the soul and glared. The soul trembled before screaming again. Jongdae pushed the soul into two other demons’ custody.

“That was terrible of you, Jongdae,” Luhan said, wrinkling his face, “Really? Saying stuff like _this_ in front of my own ears? Come on.”

“What are you talking about?” Sehun asked, “Are you jealous? I can call you cute, too, Luhan. You’re a very sweet demon. The sweetest Lu I’ve ever met, so that’s why you will make the moon bright and full now.”

Sehun poked Luhan’s cheek and smiled, and Jongdae honestly did not know how Luhan had not snapped yet. All Luhan did was just gaze at Sehun’s expression, searching for something Jongdae didn’t know what before he laughed again.

“First of all,” he said, clapping his hands together as he struggled to speak between laughter, “Abyss.”

He pointed at the soul, and the demons took them away without hesitation.

“Second of all,” he said, wiping tears from his face, “Jongdae, you’re going to _kill_ me. You’re going to _hate_ me…I just know it.”

“You fool,” Jongdae chided, “I can’t kill you.”

But something made him pause. He already suspected there was a chance the cage wouldn’t work, so if Luhan were afraid Jongdae would be furious if it failed, then there was no need. Some hope was better than none, but Jongdae wouldn’t be beaten and broken if this didn’t work.

“Luhan,” Sehun said, picking up Luhan’s hand, “Why won’t you make the moon red now?”

“Would you look at the time,” Luhan said, slowly prying his hand away as he looked at an empty wrist, “Let’s go eat dinner now, shall we?”

He jolted out of his seat and flapped his wings to stretch them. As if on reflex, the back of Sehun’s cloak puffed up, as if a breeze of wind had flown through it. Or as if his wings had started to unfold. Jongdae leapt forwards and hugged Sehun from behind to remind him. Sehun peered back at Jongdae before he let out a soft _oh_. Jongdae felt Sehun’s wings quickly refold back, but he held on a moment longer.

“Thanks for trying,” Jongdae said before letting go and walking side by side him.

“I’ll try harder,” Sehun said, “What you want…I’m going to give all I can to give it to you.”

“Don’t make yourself to do that,” Jongdae said, kicking at a stray candle that had fallen, causing a puddle of flames to seep around the floor, “Be selfish.”

Sehun only gave him a look, one that Jongdae just knew meant something like _as if._

Sehun raced ahead, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he caught up to Luhan.

“Luhan, the _moon_ ,” Sehun said, looping his arm through Luhan’s, “Do it for Jongdae? Please?”

Jongdae hung back, observing them from a distance. The last time he had tried to do something like that, Luhan had slipped out of his grasp. But when Luhan forgot they were supposed to live in this present time and not the past, he allowed Jongdae to stay. Now, Luhan only loosely held his arm out instead of pushing Sehun off.

“It’s dinner,” Luhan said after a long, exaggerated sigh, “I can’t talk about things without wine.”

Sehun looked behind him, gesturing for Jongdae to catch up. Jongdae took his time, continuing to watch them as they entered the dining room. Sehun waved to some demons on the dance floor who stopped to ask him to come dance with them. Luhan snapped his fingers at the nearest waiter to bring bottles of wine to his usual table. Jongdae walked faster now, offering a single nod to the knife-throwing demon and a scowling glare to those who jeered at him and chanted under their breaths those familiar words. _Traitor, traitor, traitor!_

“Don’t sit next to me,” Luhan warned Sehun when they reached the table, “I’ll snap if you bring up the moon again. And where’s the waiter with the wine?”

He clapped his hands, looking around for anyone at all. A different waiter rushed forwards with a wine bottle and a glass just for Luhan.

“I wasn’t going to anyways,” Sehun said, sitting next to Joy who welcomed him, “The spot on your right side is for Jongdae of course.”

“Not anymore,” the waiter said as he poured the wine, “Traitors don’t get to be the right hand demon of a Lu.”

“Hey,” Luhan said, spluttering after he took a sip of his wine, “quick question.”

“Yes?” the demon said.

“Can you shut the fuck up and start paying more attention to what you serve me? Since when did I drink 100 BC wine? That stuff’s rotten,” Luhan complained before sloshing the rest of his wine on the demon.

Sehun hid a smile behind his napkin, one he thought no one could see, but could he really hide such a sweet smile when his eyes still scrunched up into little crescent moons? Dinner continued, waiters offering them platter after platter of food, bottle after bottle of wine. Sometimes, there would be a testy silence, but Sehun easily filled it with his laughter, with his smiles, with his compliments, with his questions. He asked Joy how was her visit to the dead, how Sunmi got her eyeshadow to sparkle the exact color of rubies, how Yeri could escape from the chains she held.

It was impressive, how Sehun could captivate everyone until they stared at him almost as fondly as Jongdae stared at Sehun. What could Jongdae say. Was there anyone who could look Sehun in the eyes and not smile when he smiled? Not laugh when he laughed? Not love when he loved?

Except Luhan.

Luhan grimaced every now and then, hiding most of his expression behind the bottom of a glass cup or with a knife when he ate. Jongdae could only guess what Luhan thought. Something about Sehun was not quite all right. Something about Sehun was much too bright, not fit for a place as dim and dark as hell.

“I’m going again,” Joy suddenly announced after the previous laughter quieted. She always did this, always took advantage of these good moods, these good times to break such news. “To the fields.”

“Again?” Luhan said in shock, dropping his knife as if he was surprised. Then he shrugged and pretended like his previous reaction never happened. “Alright. Well, whatever. I don’t care.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Joy said, waving her hand, “I’m only doing this because they asked. If they didn’t, then I wouldn’t care to visit so often.”

“I don’t care about your excuses,” Sunmi said with a sigh, resting her cheek in her hand, “if you have to go, then just go and leave again. We’ll always be here waiting.”

“What if we don’t care to wait,” Yeri said, playing with a deck of cards she had spread out across her part of the table, “Some people leave, and they never come back. There’s no point in waiting, you know.”

It was this moment in which Jongdae knew exactly who they were all talking about, the missing place at the table that they filled because the absence was as equally uncomfortable as his presence.

But, of course, Sehun reached into the darkness they sat in and sprinkled bits of his golden self, breaking the tension with a laugh. Jongdae sighed. What a laugh. What an angel.

“You’re all so funny,” Sehun said, “You really think you don’t care? About anything at all? Sunmi takes care of Luhan’s dusty portrait because she cares. Joy visits her dead all the time because she’s worried that they’ll feel alone. Yeri teaches Jongdae ways to escape from other chains and confinements because she cares. You all care, one way or the other.”

Silence fell as they all testily looked at each other, exchanged glances, and dared someone to speak. After few more seconds, Joy murmured that Sehun was wrong. Why would she visit them out of her own time if they didn’t ask her to?

“I don’t care. You said nothing about me,” Luhan said with a scoff.

“You do, Luhan,” Sehun said, pressing on despite the deepening glower that twisted Luhan’s countenance, “It’s very clear. How you won’t face Jongdae when he’s in pain because you can’t bear to see it. How you still keep him around even though –”

“Enough,” Luhan said, slamming his glass on the table, “The full moon is almost here, and it is not the time to be talking about being kind.”

If Luhan really wanted to, he could’ve bent and stretched the moon himself and made it full anytime he wanted. So why this hesitation. Why this pause. Why this waiting. Jongdae didn’t know.

But Sehun was not giving up, not even close to giving up.

“The cage,” Sehun said, leaning towards Luhan, “You wanted the cage for yourself, so wouldn’t whatever you want be tied to what Jongdae wants?

Jongdae watched Luhan for any familiar expressions that he might’ve seen in himself. But there was only a blank look on Luhan’s face as he stabbed his steak and slit it open down the middle. He didn’t even clench his fists on the knife, only lifted his pinky daintily as he held his utensils. There was no urgency, no desperation that Jongdae was familiar with. Luhan only let out a long, resigned sigh.

“If I can wait, then Jongdae can,” Luhan said, pausing to cut a smaller piece of his food. “It takes a lot to prepare for the ritual, you know? I’m working on it. I don’t know if I can do it, but I will. Just wait.”

“Jongdae’s waited long enough,” Sehun said.

“He’ll have to wait a little more,” Luhan said, “I told you. It all depends on my capability, and if I fail because I’m not ready, then I’ve failed our chance.”

Sehun blinked, falling into silence before smiling.

“See?” he said, “You care, Luhan. You’re the sweetest.”

Luhan’s shoulders began shaking, as if a large laugh was bubbling up inside of him.

“He doesn’t care for traitors,” the waiter said as he placed a new plate of food in front of them, “they’re scum after all. Jongdae’s no worse than the worst of the dead who get sent here, after all.”

Jongdae wasn’t bothered tonight. He had heard this so many times before, and he didn’t really feel like this waiter was worth the retaliation. As long as he knew the true reason why he acted, then that was fine. The only other opinions that mattered were not the opinions of a lowly, minor demon. But clearly Sehun disagreed, already drawing himself up to full height, wings threatening to pop out from his back as he took a deep breath and began pointing a finger. Jongdae placed a hand on Sehun’s back to remind his wings to calm down, that they should not be present. Before Sehun or anyone else could say anything, Luhan did.

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Luhan said, finally letting out an uproarious laugh as he banged his wine glass onto the table so hard again and again and again until it broke. He then hurtled the glass shards at the demon before pulling him up by the collar and slamming his head onto the table, the glass shards impaling his face.

“Oh, dear,” Joy said, distastefully turning away, “Look at that, the table cloth is ruined.”

For once, Sehun didn’t ask if the demon was okay and only glanced at the blood seeping onto the tablecloth before turning to Jongdae.

“Are you okay?” Sehun asked. He placed his hand on Jongdae’s lap and squeezed his thigh. Jongdae could feel Sunmi looking at them, but he didn’t notice her smile.

“Of course,” Jongdae said.

Everyone was here with him. The past was gone, never to be touched ever again, but it seemed like Sehun could seamlessly make things not how they were, but better. Kinder. Softer. The moon was almost full, his friends were here, so of course Jongdae was more than fine.

But the way Sehun’s cheeks were flushed a delicate pink from all the laughter that continued afterwards made Jongdae realize he would’ve painted the moon that dusty rose color if he was a Lu.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

Jongdae wasn’t a Lu, not even close to it despite the black wings Luhan tattooed onto his skin with fire when they were both younger and freer. He was Luhan’s right hand forever, Luhan’s best in the past, Luhan’s worst in the present. He didn’t know why he stayed or why Luhan kept him around either. They used to do things together as equals, but now after the collar and that event five hundred years ago, Jongdae ran around doing chores for Luhan more often than not. He cared more than he thought.

He didn’t want to be a Lu anyways, despite what anyone else might think. The throne? Not for him. The job? Boring. The burden? Never. Luhan had the weight of eternity on his shoulders, doomed to judge until the end.

Lus could retire, hand off the throne to another Lu when they accomplished something great like the fall of humanity, seizing victory in a long war, imprisoning another demon in barbed chains for a thousand years. Luhan had done nothing to be allowed to retire if all the impressive amounts of wine were discounted. And besides. It was not like there were any Lus left to take over the throne. Lucifer had only created a finite amount of Lus. Luhan’s father was to be the last, but Luhan always liked saying his father only had him so he could retire and Luhan would be damned in his place. Jongdae didn’t know if it was possible for Luhan to even retire if he accomplished something great, but it could never hurt to try.

So why Luhan left the cage that could supposedly help free him from this place in the open, unguarded, Jongdae didn’t know.

They had found it by accident one day, one night, who knew. Sehun had wanted to explore the castle again, opening and closing every few doors they passed just to look, just in case he missed anything. Jongdae was happy enough just to follow him, to protect him in case anything happened.

“Oh?” Sehun said as he opened one door to a parlor room just a crack. He lingered in the doorway, peeking through the little sliver of space. Jongdae opened the door a little wider and peeked in.

“It can’t be,” Jongdae said, striding into the room. He heard the door close behind him, but when he looked back, Sehun still remained over there, back pressed to the wooden frame.

It seemed Luhan had stashed the cage in a room, not even bothering to hide or guard it. A small piece of fabric was draped over it, like Luhan had decided it was important enough to try and conceal, but not important enough to hide properly.

“Why is this here?” Jongdae asked, reaching forwards to grab one of the bars again. He tried to bend it with his hands, but it resisted under his touch.

He looked over at Sehun and let his hand fall.

“Just hold on a little longer,” Jongdae said, “wait until the moon is full, and after Luhan finishes whatever he needs with it, then you can destroy it.”

Sehun nodded but didn’t inch closer. He had helped Jongdae take the cage back here, but now that there was no reason for him to touch the cage, he would not. Now that he was free, he could not go back. Jongdae went to him instead, and they stayed by the door, looking straight through the bars of the cage, the intricately crafted metal.

“Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like if I skipped all that time in there. Who would I be? Who would I be with? Where would I be?” Sehun asked. Jongdae didn’t have to hesitate anymore and easily reached forwards to drape an arm around Sehun’s shoulders to comfort him.

“I wanted to be a guardian angel to humans, but that’s a distant dream now,” Sehun softly said, “I can’t go back. Whether I want to or not.”

“What was heaven like?” Jongdae asked, “Aside from all the dead souls, and all the light.”

It had to be more than a blank stretch of white. It had to be better than here, right?

“It had its dull moments,” Sehun said before he sighed, “But it was good. My friends and I would look after the dead souls…not that they needed anything. They’re allowed to have whatever they want to see, but sometimes that’s too much of a power for some. Too much of a good thing isn’t always good, so we have to regulate that and make sure they follow the rules.”

“Heaven has rules?” Jongdae asked.

“Of course,” Sehun said, “Did you know it’s still possible to get kicked out of heaven even when you make it there? It’s rare, but possible.”

“Well, there is Lucifer after all,” Jongdae said. He regretted it when Sehun let out a sharp exhale. Deciding that they had enough of this cage, Jongdae opened the door and led Sehun out of the room. He gave the cage one last glance before leaving it behind.

“Yeah. Lucifer,” Sehun asked, shaking his head. He walked forwards before realizing ten more steps would lead him to the beginning of the gallery of Lus and quickly turned around. “I don’t know what it’s like now, but heaven was no better than hell when Lucifer started that war.”

“It’s his fault you were dragged down here,” Jongdae said, matching Sehun’s pace, “How terrible.”

“It’s his doing that you and all the demons were created,” Sehun said, “How wonderful.”

“Hey,” Jongdae said, letting out a small laugh, “He only created the Lus from the angels that followed him into hell. I’m born from the fire.”

“That’s beautiful,” Sehun said, but he was only looking at Jongdae.

“You know,” Jongdae said, “Maybe you can’t be a guardian angel to humans anymore. But maybe you can be a guardian angel to lost souls who wander here, damned souls who want forgiveness.”

“Heaven lost an angel, but hell gained me,” Sehun smiled, “I’ll be a guardian angel to the damned. Maybe that’s what I want to do since I’m staying here with you.”

Every time Sehun said it, Jongdae was still surprised. So Sehun was really giving up heaven for hell. So Sehun was really sacrificing all for Jongdae.

But Jongdae had forgotten that Sehun had had nothing, was forced to give up everything long before this. He didn’t have a choice back then, but this was his choice now.

“So you’re really staying,” Jongdae said. It was more astounding when he said the words out loud. “Even if heaven’s all white and great.”

Sehun shrugged.

“It’s not that great anymore,” Sehun said.

“But you loved it,” Jongdae said.

“That was years and years and years ago. Who knows what’s changed now?” Sehun said.

“But you loved it,” Jongdae repeated.

“It doesn’t have you,” Sehun said.

“But you loved it.”

“But I love you.”

Demons liked to believe that they didn’t have a concept of love, that they were too tough to love, that they were too terrible to be loved. But of course that was false. Of course they loved. They never used that word often, and sometimes the most they’d say would be this: _I’d take your pain and make it mine. I’d suffer for you, do anything for you 'till the end of time_.

Jongdae’s heart was bursting with burning emotions that lit up his face with a brilliant smile, and today, he felt less of a demon and more of something else that was neither angel nor any other kind he’d ever known. Finding his eyes blurry, probably from the smoky ashes outside drifting through a space so black, he held Sehun’s hand and heard his heart sing those words right back.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Sehun didn’t seem bothered that Jongdae never said it back. He was content with smiling, holding Jongdae’s hand, swinging it around as he always said the same thing. _Jongdae, Jongdae, Jongdae! I love you, I love you, I love you!_ Hell was still dark, still burning, but the way Jongdae’s heart leapt in his chest made the darkness not black, the color of the abyss, but black the color of Sehun’s hair that Jongdae liked to run his fingers through. The fires did not burn outside to keep the darkness away, but burned in his heart as he smiled all night and day. The moon was not red, the color of blood, but red, the color of Sehun’s cheeks when he was especially full of love, laughter, life. No, Jongdae never echoed his words, but his heart sang in its place.

It was a lot, always feeling like he was asking Sehun to stay. It was even more, realizing Sehun could be in a place far better, happier, and brighter than where he was now. Heaven was what he deserved, but all Jongdae could offer was himself. He had been lucky enough that Sehun stayed, but not everyone seemed to agree that this was where Sehun belonged.

When Jongdae said everyone, he just meant Luhan. Luhan started pushing Sehun away more and more, cutting him off before he could speak, leaving before he could even look at him, and shaking off his hand when he tried to touch him. Jongdae had tried to reassure Sehun that this was normal for Luhan. Some days Luhan was in a good mood, and other days it was best to stay out of his sight.

But when Luhan could not avoid Sehun any longer, he attacked with his words instead.

“You don’t belong here, Sehun,” Luhan said. Jongdae didn’t have to check to know how Sehun’s expression must have fallen.

“He can if he wants,” Jongdae insisted, “Hell could use someone like him.”

He felt the way Sehun’s grasp tightened on him, how he squeezed his hand without saying anything yet.

“Come on, a kind _demon_?” Luhan said with a scoff, “This place isn’t fit for those who care.”

“But he does. What are you going to do about it?” Jongdae asked.

Luhan looked at him for a moment before his gaze flicked towards Sehun again.

“I don’t have the energy to change him,” Luhan said, “If he wants to be kind, then do it out of my sight.”

“Then where can I go?” Sehun softly asked causing Luhan’s raised shoulders to drop at the tone of his voice and his eyebrows to slightly furrow, “Surely you know a place where I can belong, right?”

“Not here,” Luhan shook his head, “That’s for sure. Maybe all those years spent wandering in the fields messed you up. Or maybe you’re not meant to be anywhere. I don’t understand you, Sehun.”

“You can belong here if you want,” Jongdae said, stepping in front of Sehun to block Luhan from his sight. Luhan scoffed and shook his head, shoving his hands into his pocket as he walked off. Jongdae didn’t watch him leave.

“Maybe he’s right,” Sehun said after they were alone, “Maybe I’ll only fit in heaven.”

“False. Don’t you remember what you told me all that time ago?” Jongdae said, tilting Sehun’s chin up with a finger. “Heaven is where you’re from. It doesn’t have to be where you belong.”

“Luhan doesn’t say I belong here either,” Sehun said, “What now?”

“Fuck Luhan,” Jongdae said, “The throne’s gone to his head and it’s changed him. The Luhan of the past would’ve just shrugged and said you belonged wherever you want.”

“How do we get that Luhan back?” Sehun asked, “The Luhan you loved and loved you in return? That one?”

“We can’t,” Jongdae said, his hand falling, “That’s all past history now. We can’t return.”

“But you can change,” Sehun said, “change for the better, change to be together again. It won’t be exactly like how it was, but it can be better.”

Sehun had smiled then, but Jongdae caught moments when his expression was blank more often, when he stared off into the distance instead of listening to Joy talk about her recent trip to the fields, when his arms had crossed over his body as he hugged himself, as if he was trapped in that cage again. Free but not free. When he was in one of those moods, Sehun liked to sit on the couch next to the window to stare out at the moon.

More often than not, Jongdae would curl up next to him and watch the moon, too. Every day was a day closer to a chance. Every day was a day closer to a failure. But every day was a day with Sehun, so all was not lost. Jongdae’s collar only pained him twice more, and he believed the moon would be full before the next time.

Even though Sehun said he was fine with staying here, Jongdae could not help but catch a little dreamy look in his eyes when he stared outside, as if he dreamt of flying under whiter skies, brighter lights.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said one night, “Is it possible for you to call the angels?”

Oh.

Of course he would change his mind. Jongdae didn’t blame him. There wasn’t much to stay in hell for.

Jongdae observed Sehun's expression. There was that distant look again, that little half-smile, that sigh waiting to spill from his lips.

There was a lump in his throat, and Jongdae took a deep breath to try and clear his mind. He looked at Sehun, gazed at him like it would be the last time, and prepared to let go. Even if it would hurt. Even if it would kill.

“I’ll think of a way,” Jongdae said, resting his hand on Sehun’s leg, “They can come pick you up and take you back.

Sehun snapped his attention away from the skies and back to Jongdae.

“Jongdae,” he said, reaching forwards with a hand to touch his cheek lightly. He stared at him oddly before his expression cleared when he realized. “You thought I was asking for them so they could take me back? So I could leave here? Leave you?”

Jongdae ducked his head to avoid showing Sehun the blooming smile on his face that he could not repress or hide. It would have been selfish if he wanted Sehun here with him no matter what. But he could not hide from Sehun, and he felt Sehun’s fingers ghost down the side of his face before tilting his chin up slightly.

“I already told you,” Sehun smiled, “I’m staying.”

Jongdae let out a sigh and flopped down onto the couch.

“I’ll find a way to reach them for you,” Jongdae said, spreading his arms out as he stared up at the ceiling, “What should I tell them?”

“Tell them to come here,” Sehun said, laying down beside Jongdae, “tell them you freed Lucifer’s last angel and they should come because they think I’m still one of theirs.”

“Okay,” Jongdae said, shifting on his side to look at Sehun. This time Sehun was the one staring up at the darkness, up at the blank ceiling, his eyes focusing on nothing and everything. “Why do you want to see them anyways?”

“I want to look into the eyes of any angel at all,” Sehun said, adjusting his arm so he could pull Jongdae close to him, “and I want to ask why they left me there. Was it too much to send even one angel to look? I remember being pulled down away from heaven. The wind blew against me, but escaped between my fingertips, unable to stop me from falling. I know some angel saw me go because I saw them and looked them in the eyes. I just want to know why they did nothing before I bid them one last good-bye.”

“I don’t know why or how heaven could let you go. If it were up to me, Lucifer would’ve been stopped even before he could even to look at you,” Jongdae softly said, reaching over to wipe a stray tear that had fallen onto Sehun’s cheek.

Sehun hid his face on Jongdae’s chest. Jongdae heard no cries, no sobbing, but stroked Sehun’s back and whispered softly to him as Sehun gripped Jongdae’s clothes and balled them into his fist.

As Jongdae lay there like this, he wondered how angels could be killed because if he ever saw the angels who ignored Sehun, he would not hesitate. But as he watched Sehun drift off to a troubled sleep, he relaxed. Sehun thought he was kind. So Jongdae would be kind.

And only rip out their hearts straight from their chest with his bare hands.

But Jongdae did not know how to contact the angels. It wasn’t as if demons could visit heaven any time they liked, and what angel would ever want to visit hell? He had asked around, but was met with no success. What could he say?

 _I want to talk to some angels. It’s for science_.

_For no reason._

_Just because_.

Angels were a topic no one ever discussed. Heaven was only mentioned in scorn. So he asked around to see if there was a way he could send a message to any outside realm. He didn’t answer when people asked him which realm.

“You’ll be able to do that when hell freezes,” one demon laughed, “As if anything can escape here.”

“Earth? What do you want to send a message to earth for?” another demon said, “do you have a friend serving there right now?”

Jongdae didn’t correct them. For days, he continued to ask every demon he could find, even those who wasted no time to sneer at him. If they knew, then he would swallow his pride and ask for Sehun. But they didn’t. It seemed no one knew. Sunmi had no clue, shrugging before suggesting that someone at torture division might now. Joy was no help either, telling him she didn’t know before she left for the fields again. But Jongdae found Yeri, looked at her just as he was about to ask, and found the past farther away than it seemed.

Where was the version of Yeri that used to smile at him, laugh and dodge when he tried to tousle her hair? Where was the Yeri that insisted on following Jongdae everywhere?

“I want to learn from the best demon,” she used to say with a smile on her face as she hooked her arm through Jongdae’s as he walked through the halls. Jongdae tried to say that would have to be Luhan, but she’d never believe him.

“I want to learn how to escape from these chains today,” Yeri told him today, a blank look on her face. It had taken thirty minutes of sitting next to her patiently before she spoke. Jongdae could wait all the time for her to acknowledge him, but it didn’t mean that it hurt any less. It didn’t mean that it was any less lonely even though she was right here right next to him.

“You already know how,” Jongdae said.

“Every chain is different. You’re supposed to have a thousand ways to break out of every type of scenario. If I can only think of nine hundred and ninety nine, then what’s the point?” Yeri asked.

“You’ll figure it out,” Jongdae said before echoing what she had told him before, “There’s always a way in and out of things. You’ll find it. I know.”

Just because something was impossible didn’t mean trying anyways was worthless.

Yeri nodded before looking at Jongdae.

“Do you need something? You’re off with Sehun so much nowadays. See me more,” Yeri said with a frown. Jongdae’s eyes widened, and a grin quickly spread across his face. He spent the next minute promising of course he’d come see her more, of course they should do things they used to together more, of course he’d spend more time with her. Just like they used to.

“Do you know of how to get a message to someone outside of here?” Jongdae asked after an hour of pleasant conversation had passed, “Outside of hell?”

“To like…the earth?” Yeri asked, tilting her head as she considered Jongdae’s question, “Purgatory?”

“Purgatory exists?” Jongdae asked.

“Of course it does. No one knows how to get in or out of there though,” Yeri said.

“So you know of a way?” Jongdae asked.

Yeri hummed, wrapping and unwrapping the chain around her arm as she thought.

“Spread a message through the lines of the souls. Eventually, it’ll reach those who are newly dead. If word spreads fast enough, it’ll reach beyond and between the living and the dead,” Yeri said.

Jongdae didn’t know how that was possible, but he trusted Yeri.

“Thank you so much,” Jongdae said, touching her shoulder as he grinned.

“The cage might do more than you think,” Yeri said as if she knew something Jongdae did not, “Be careful.”

“Then that’s good,” Jongdae said, “For Luhan and for me. Maybe we can return to the past after this.”

Yeri opened her mouth to say something before she changed her mind and stood up instead.

“You know that can’t happen, Jongdae. You chose to act, so this is what we are now,” she said before walking away.

Jongdae sighed as he watched her leave. Eternity was eternity, so he hoped one year or another, things would be fine again. If not the same, then at least better.

Luhan had enough of the line today, so Jongdae snuck back to the throne room alone to try what Yeri had suggested. He looked at the long line that stretched out further than what he could see before instructing the first soul in line to pass on his message, a simple announcement to the angels that he wanted to meet them and deliver what had been lost to them since the beginning of time. Jongdae wasn’t sure how good the dead were at delivering the same message without altering its details, but he’d have to trust that this would work.

Jongdae expected an answer in perhaps a month or two, unsure of how long it would take for the message to travel. But information poured faster through the line than Luhan poured his wine, so during the next day, the next soul in line surprised him by announcing he had news.

“The angels are coming,” the dead soul whispered to Jongdae alone, “to collect what is theirs. There’s a place beyond the borders of hell where they want to meet. Just imagine an empty space surrounded and closed in by jagged mountains. They’ll be there in three days.”

“Thank you,” Jongdae said, clapping the dead’s wispy shoulder before walking back to Luhan’s side.

“Conspiracy?” Luhan asked, “Again? Didn’t you learn anything from last time?”

From the corner of his eye, Jongdae watched Sehun tightly press his lips together and blow up his cheeks with air to prevent himself from correcting Luhan.

“It was just a message from my dead,” Jongdae said.

“You don’t have dead anymore,” Luhan said, “That’s your fault.”

“Well,” Jongdae said, “One wanted to speak to me.”

He wished that had been true.

“You can’t go,” Luhan said.

“I know,” Jongdae said, “Because I’ll be too busy making sure you don’t drown in a bathtub full of wine.”

“Have more faith in me, Jongdae,” Luhan drawled, “I know better than that.”

He said nothing more and focused his attention on ordering demons to send the soul away to the fields. Sehun gestured for Jongdae to tell him, but Jongdae only shook his head as he thought. The angels could convince Sehun to go back to heaven. Or they could take him by force. As if. But what if Sehun would change his mind and want to leave when he saw the temptation of others who looked like him, who loved like him?

After Jongdae finally told Sehun what was to happen in the privacy of their room, Sehun was all happy to wait those three days. Too happy. But at least now, Sehun would get his closure, and Jongdae would have a chance to take his collar off soon. The moon was almost full, so what could possibly go wrong now?

On the third day, Jongdae and Sehun stole out of the castle when Luhan was taking one of his long naps. They raced past the line, delving headfirst into the darkness outside. Jongdae tried to keep the meeting place in his mind, but it was hard since he had never known of its existence before. What types of mountains were he supposed to imagine? Did this place really exist?

Along the way, they passed the fire pit and saw a demon huddled by one of the large rocks, illuminated by the fire.

“Joy?” Jongdae said, stopping in his tracks.

Sure enough, there was Joy sitting, kneeling beside the rocks. Her neck was bent down, and her hands covered her hand. Oh. Sehun made a move to start walking towards Joy, probably to offer his comfort, but Jongdae reached out to stop him.

“Let her grieve in private,” Jongdae said, noticing the shadowy outlines of the dead that crowded around her, “she never talks about this, so she probably doesn’t want us here.”

“She shouldn’t be alone like this,” Sehun said, raising a hand out to gesture at her.

“She’s with her dead,” Jongdae said. All along, he had pretended not to know, but what wasn’t there to see? Even if Joy denied it, she was here for her dead, and they were here for her. She couldn’t hold them, but as she wept, wispy hands fruitlessly tried to wipe her tears.

“I can’t believe she thinks we don’t know she cares,” Sehun sighed, “Of course she does. I knew some angels who didn’t like to talk about sinners, so they could learn so much from her. What a big heart she has.”

Jongdae wondered where his dead were now, if they were wandering together or had gotten lost and moved on ahead.

“Let’s go,” Jongdae said, “Not a moment to waste.”

Sehun looked one last time at Joy before scrambling after Jongdae as they walked forwards. In the distance, they could see faint outlines of a crawling, twisting line faintly illuminated by the fire above.

Jongdae could not help shake the feeling that they were being watched, being followed. It was ridiculous because of course they were being watched since the dead were all around them. But he still could not help but look behind them every now and then.

“How much further?” Sehun asked.

“We’re almost there,” Jongdae said, picturing the place in his mind. A place surrounded by rocky mountains that could almost touch the sky.

It seemed Jongdae’s imagination was vivid and accurate enough, as soon, the mountains fully materialized before them. As they entered the space, Jongdae didn’t like how the mountains looked as if they could cave in at any time.

“I don’t like this,” Jongdae said. It was too quiet here, and his words echoed in the darkness. How did the angels know a place even he didn’t know about?

“I’ll talk to them quickly,” Sehun said, “It won’t take long.”

Even Sehun seemed unsettled, and he shivered, drawing his cloak tighter around him as they waited. After a few moments, a glowing white light chased away the darkness as a white hole tore apart the space slightly above them. The portal stayed open, and soon, two figures appeared, golden wings spread out from behind their backs. Angels.

Sehun stared at them, pressing his lips together.

“I’ll give them a chance,” Sehun said, marching forwards.

“Say the word and I’ll rip them to shreds,” Jongdae said, “If you want.”

“Thank you, Jongdae,” Sehun said, flashing a small smile before it quickly disappeared. He clenched his fists and squared his shoulders as he took another step closer to the light. The angels seemed to hover above the ground, not touching the dark ashes Jongdae and Sehun stood on and raised their eyebrows at Sehun as he arrived.

“You’re the missing angel?” one of them asked, squinting at Sehun.

“You’re the ones who left me?” Sehun asked.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the other angel said, raising a hand, “Prove to us you’re that angel before you start accusing us of something we didn’t do.”

Sehun flung off his cloak and spread out his wings as far as they could go. It didn’t matter how many times Jongdae had seen them before. He still stared in awe, blinking even though it could have blinded him.

“So it is you,” the angel said, “We though this demon was lying.”

“Then why did you come?” Sehun asked, “Why did you come if you thought it was a joke?”

“Just in case,” the other angel said, “You’ve been gone a long time.”

Sehun took in a deep breath and folded his arms across his chest. Jongdae almost wouldn’t have been able to recognize this Sehun, who didn’t look like he smiled a day in his life, who looked like he didn’t need help tearing the angels to bits, who looked more fire than light, more demon than angel were it not for the wings on his back.

“What’s heaven like now?” Sehun asked, “Has it changed?”

“Why would it change?” one of the angels said, “What’s there to change? It’s the place to be, the place everyone wants to go. It changes for all the dead, but why should it change for us?”

“Hell changes every time a different Lu takes over,” Sehun said, “Isn’t the red moon beautiful? Isn’t the fiery sky stunning? Luhan created it himself.”

“It’s just an illusion,” one of the angels said, “There’s only one creator, and it can’t be a Lu, of all demons.”

“Jongdae was created from fire,” Sehun said, pointing at Jongdae, “and I was created by your actions. You left me behind. You let me stay here, and you didn’t even bother to come to look for me until now.”

“You’re still one of us,” the angel shook his head, “Our kin, our kind.”

“You’re not kind at all,” Sehun snapped, “Jongdae’s been the kindest to me. He freed me from that cage, guided me through hell instead of leaving me, and he stayed. I can’t say the same for you.”

“Come on, we didn’t even exist when that happened to you,” the other angels protested, flapping his wings disgruntedly. His wings were the same color as Sehun’s, but Jongdae thought that they looked more gilded than glimmering.

“But you still know about me. And none of you…did anything,” Sehun said, his voice slightly lowering as he spoke this.

“Well, we’re here now, the other angel said, reaching out to grab Sehun’s hand.

But Jongdae already slapped it away.

“Don’t touch him,” Jongdae said. The angel glared at Jongdae before pulling his hand back and making a big show of wiping it on his clothes.

“Watch it, demon,” the angel said, “Remember where you exist the next time you think you’re worthy of even breathing our air.”

“Watch it, angel,” Sehun said, “Remember what you’ve done, what you’re doing, and what you will do the next time you think you’re above all of this.”

“Let’s go,” the angel glared, beckoning Sehun to come closer and step into the light.

Sehun shook his head.

“Sehun, let’s _go_ , the angel said, almost shouting, “It’s been long enough. Stop wasting time, and let’s go.”

“I’m staying,” Sehun announced.

Jongdae really would never be over that announcement, and he turned to look at Sehun, waiting for him to say that he was joking, that he changed his mind. But when Sehun stood with his feet grounded into the ashes and looked this absolute, Jongdae felt his heart leap in his chest and he turned back, a content smile slipping onto his face.

“What…What?” the angel spluttered, “You want to stay here? _Here?_ In…hell? Of all places? You could have it all, you know, in heaven. It’s where you’re meant to be.”

“The dead are still dead in heaven. Nothing changes. But I’d rather be with someone who stays with me rather than someone who left me to die. You wouldn’t understand,” Sehun said.

The angel’s jaw dropped open, and he shook his finger at Sehun, prepared to yell something else before the other one held him back.

“Suit yourself,” this angel said, “When you change your mind, we won’t come back.”

“Of course,” Sehun nodded, “I never expected you to come for me. Not ever again.”

The smoky air was thick with ashes, the atmosphere thick with tension, and Sehun finally looked one long, last look at the angels before turning his back to them.

“You,” the angels called out. Sehun didn’t look back, but curious, Jongdae did. The angels pointed at him and beckoned for him to come. Jongdae watched Sehun walk off in the distance before turning back to the angels. He’d keep this quick.

“How does it feel to know you angels fucked it up so bad you lost your best?” Jongdae laughed as he stepped up to the light.

“Yeah, yeah, about that,” one of the angels said, looking to make sure Sehun was far enough before leaning in. None of them ever bothered to step onto hell’s floor, preferring to stay in their little white portal. “We’ll make you a deal. We’ll help take off your collar in return for killing Sehun.”

What.

“What?” Jongdae managed to speak, his blood running cold. There was a strange tremor that shook his body, and he clenched his hands together as if that would help keep him calm, keep him in control.

“It’s a perfectly fair deal, and it’s not like you’d have any problems with killing, being a demon and all,” the other angel casually said, as if all of this could ever tempt Jongdae into committing the unspeakable.

“Stop,” Jongdae said, raising a trembling hand up, “Say that again.”

“You’re a demon, so that’s what you do. You hurt and you kill,” the angel said.

“No, the other part,” Jongdae said, taking a shuddering breath, “You want me to kill Sehun? An angel? One of your own kind?”

He turned to look at Sehun. Sehun who was patiently waiting. Sehun who had raised a hand to wave at Jongdae, beckoning him to come back to him. Jongdae trembled, but it wasn’t because he was freezing. It was hell after all. This was his burning rage after all.

“Sehun’s already fallen,” the other angel dismissively said, “Angels who leave heaven are considered fallen, whether it’s by their choice or not. We cannot let any angel who’s fallen return.”

“Sehun was forcibly taken. It wasn’t his fault. You have to let him come back,” Jongdae said, raising his voice. Now it became clear why the angels never even dared to take a step into hell.

“He’s a liability,” the first angel said, “We left him here in the hopes that Lucifer would never release him or that he’d just kill him himself. If he came back with us, we would’ve found a different way to dispose of him.”

“I…I don’t know where to start,” Jongdae said, “You let…Lucifer take him? You left him here? And you have the audacity to make someone else kill him? So, what, your hands will be clean when you go back to heaven?”

“Since when did demons care?” the second angel said, looking at Jongdae as he furrowed his eyebrows and frowned.

“We’ve always cared,” Jongdae snarled, “We care for the ones you threw away, the ones you didn’t think were worth saving.”

“But we thought that you wanted that collar of yours gone. We thought it’s what you want most. Pain like that…you’ve endured much,” this angel continued, lowering the tone of his voice and making it seem soothing.

Jongdae didn’t even hesitate.

“Well, you thought wrong. Leave, and if I ever see you ever again, I’ll reach over and into your light and strangle you with my own hands. Go fuck yourself,” he spat before storming back to Sehun.

Sehun’s expression was troubled, and before Jongdae could reach him and tell him what had happened, a voice made him freeze.

“What do we have here?” a voice asked.

Jongdae looked up, heart pounding against his chest, and there, standing on the rocks of the dark mountain with the shadow of the red moon behind him stood Luhan sneering down at them.

“Conspiring against me? Again?” Luhan said, “I thought you learned from your mistake, Jongdae.”

“A Lu,” an angel said, fluffing up his wings with a huff, “It’s too bad you didn’t die out. Aren’t you the last one?”

“Not for long,” Luhan smiled. From here, he truly looked devilish, like a hellish creature of the night as he spread his wings and swooped down and landed nimbly on his toes. He slung an arm around Jongdae’s shoulder and pushed him back towards the angels. Sehun ran towards them, forgetting to hide his own wings.

“I knew you were an angel the moment you stepped into my castle,” Luhan said as Sehun reached them and immediately grabbed Jongdae’s hand. He glanced at Sehun’s and Jongdae’s clasped hands and scoffed. “I just didn’t expect you to fall for this, Jongdae. An angel.”

“But it’s Sehun,” Jongdae weakly said as he felt Luhan’s nails digging into his shoulder. “How could I not?”

“This is… _touching_ ,” Luhan said, wrinkling his face at the word, “But did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I asked for a cage and you…brought me one to be fair. But didn’t you think I wouldn’t be suspicious if you brought back a new demon? One who has a tattoo of a number three on his fucking skin? One who welcomes the dead with a smile? Who even _does_ that, what the _fuck_?”

“It’s not a three,” Sehun took this exact moment to say, “they’re curved. Like Jongdae’s lips.”

Luhan stared at Sehun for maybe three seconds before throwing his head back to laugh. It was a full-bodied laugh, one that he had to slap his leg and bend over to recover from.

“Oh,” Luhan said, dramatically wiping invisible tears from his eyes, “Jongdae you are going to _kill_ me for what I need to do, _fuck_. I guess this would make us even then.”

“What? What do you need to do?” Jongdae said, holding onto Sehun’s hand tighter and tighter.

The smile immediately dropped off of Luhan’s face, his features tightening into a stony, dangerous expression. In this lighting, he truly looked like the king of hell, and Jongdae’s heart stopped after he heard him speak.

“Give me the angel, Jongdae,” Luhan said, stretching his hand towards them, “If I sacrifice him, then we’ll both be free.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jongdae didn’t even think.

He didn’t think as he heard Sehun gasp, heard the angels behind him start to murmur, heard the wild beating of his heart pounding through his chest.

“ _No_ ,” he shouted, letting the word ring through the mountains.

Jongdae was smaller, but he would shield as much of Sehun as he could. With his hands. His Body. His heart. Everything for Sehun. And oh, if anyone could see him now. A demon with his eyes flashing blood, his shadowy aura burning so black that the rest of the darkness looked gray in comparison.

“Interesting,” Luhan said, “So he’s worth more than I thought if you wouldn’t give him up to be free.”

“I still want it off,” Jongdae spat, “But I’ll find another way that doesn’t involve Sehun. You can’t have Sehun.”

“Why not?” Luhan asked. Jongdae stretched out a hand and crouched slightly, keeping Sehun behind him, keeping himself on guard. He quickly glanced at Sehun, but even now, Sehun did not seem afraid. Not even at the mention of the sacrifice, not even at the sight of Luhan.

“Because it’s Sehun,” Jongdae said.

“ _Because it’s Sehun_ ,” Luhan echoed, screwing up his face. He kept his hands in his pockets as he circled around them, but Jongdae knew he could whip out a dagger at any second. “But I’m Luhan. Shouldn’t I get what I want since hell is mine?”

“And I want Sehun,” Luhan continued, stepping close, too dangerously close. He never made it to Sehun, no. He knew better than to try Jongdae. But he still stood millimeters away, peeking over Jongdae’s shoulder at Sehun. Jongdae could feel a hand grabbing his arm and squeezing it and knew how Sehun must have started to feel now. He didn’t need to touch his skin, to feel his pulse to know. Especially when Luhan began to say this.

“Trust me…I won’t enjoy stabbing him in the heart any more than you, but—” Luhan began to say before Jongdae had enough and snapped.

“What the _fuck_ , Luhan,” Jongdae bellowed, pushing Luhan away as hard as he could. Luhan looked stunned for a second before he recovered and laughed. Jongdae’s chest was heaving, and he took a step backwards, closer to Sehun who moved his hands to squeeze his shoulder. If he looked back now, Luhan could seize the opportunity to act. If he looked back now, he'd see how stunned Sehun looked. And if he looked back, he would be lost. So he didn’t.

“This is beneficial for us both, Jongdae,” Luhan said, placing his hands on his hips, “I need an angel.”

But Jongdae was still not ready to act. A hard shove was as much as he could do to hurt Luhan even now. Luhan had not pulled out a single weapon, done a single thing other than talk, so Jongdae justified his refusal to attack even now because of this. Jongdae could never physically hurt Luhan, never stab him, never even land a punch. This was what cost him the war. But it would not cost him Sehun.

There was a choice that Jongdae saw dangling right before his eyes, one whose consequences he refused to consider in this moment. Now was the time to act, so Jongdae chose.

Jongdae strode towards the angels step by step, one foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. One foot in front of the other. Sehun closely trailed after him, walking backwards to keep his eyes on Luhan.

“What will you do with this angel?” Jongdae asked, staring up at the white light, the guilty witnesses, the silent sinners.

“You know,” Luhan said, stalking after them casually, hand moving to brush his hair back, “Do something big for my retirement party. I need to go out with a bang in order to leave, right?”

He was exceedingly optimistic for a Lu who had no successor.

“Do something else,” Jongdae said. One last attempt.

“Take off Jongdae’s collar,” Sehun said, unable to hide how his voice trembled, “Reverse the punishment a previous Lu mandated, and that should free both you and Jongdae.”

“I don’t have enough power to do that right now,” Luhan said, “I need to retire first, and then at the height of my powers, I can try.”

“Try?” Sehun asked, his voice not much more than a whisper.

“Will,” Luhan corrected, “I will take off Jongdae’s collar, but I need to get out of my throne first.”

“A Lu without a desire for the throne. A Lu without a descendant. You can’t leave hell unruled and unsupervised,” an angel called.

“I don’t fucking _care_ about hell,” Luhan suddenly snarled, swiveling towards the angels and their light with a glare. “Pick a different Lu to rule, any retired one, I don’t care _who_. Just not _me_.”

One of the angels looked at the other and whispered something in his ear. The other one slowly nodded.

“You need an angel, right?” the second angel said to Luhan, “Then just take Sehun. We don’t claim him anymore. Once an angel enters hell, they cannot return, so kill him for all we care.”

“What?” Sehun asked, his voice soft. He had no desire to return, but this must have hurt. Jongdae would make them hurt more.

“Then what about you?” Jongdae furiously said, spitting out fire with his words, “You’re here, so what makes you think you’ll be able to come back? What makes you think I won’t rip you to pieces with my own hands right this second?”

“Come on,” the first angel scoffed, gesturing at the white circle, “We’re not technically in hell or stepping on its grounds. We’re still in a stretch of heaven.”

“You guys are so fucked up,” Luhan laughed, “I thought you were all into that…pretentious moral forgiveness and compassion and empathy stuff. You’re no better than a demon. You’re no better than us.”

“We’re just protecting what needs to be protected. Don’t think we know why you need an angel,” the second angel said, “I already asked this demon to kill him, but he wouldn’t. As ruler of hell, I’m sure you’ll have no problems with doing it.”

“Why not do it yourself?” Luhan sneered, “I’ll even let you borrow my dagger.”

The angels shifted, pulling on their clothes with restless hands.

“That’s right. Killing is for us, right? You wouldn’t even dirty your white robes and hands, right? Pitiful,” Luhan shook his head.

“I take it you won’t do it,” the same angel said.

“Oh, I’ll do it,” Luhan said, crossing his arms across his chest, “But I want you to think of what you just did. Take a good look at his face. He’s right here, so you should say you’re sorry now. There won’t be time for that when you leave and he’s gone.”

“There’s no need,” the first angel said, “He’s been lost to us since he left. What’s there to mourn?”

Sehun’s jaw dropped, and Jongdae was already pushing Luhan out of the way to stalk even closer to the white light.

“You want an angel?” Jongdae all but yelled, fury blazing through his veins, rage burning through his heart, “I’ll give you one.”

With a terrible scream, he tore through heaven, pushed his hands through where he was never allowed, and grabbed the angel nearest to him. Jongdae didn’t imagine it would be this easy, but maybe the force of his anger allowed such audacity as he pulled and pulled until the angel fell out of heaven and into hell, tumbling face first onto the ashes.

“Welcome to hell,” Jongdae spat, kicking some of the ashes into the disheveled angel’s face, “Enjoy your stay because it looks like heaven’s a distant dream for you now.”

The last remaining angel gasped, running backwards before the portal closed.

The angel wildly twisted his head, eyes darting around and around hell. He crawled away from all of them before letting out a terrible scream that echoed long after he had ran out of breath. His shoulders shook as he began to mutter a chorus of _no, no, no, no, no…_ But Jongdae’s heart was not moved.

Jongdae stood with his arms crossed, looking down upon this angel a moment longer before finding Sehun with a dark expression on his face. There were many things Jongdae wanted to say, that he thought of saying, but all he could do was look at Sehun and hope that he’d understand. Sehun seemed to understand and nodded once.

Luhan stuck his hands in his pocket and peered down at the angel’s shaking figure, his wings that faded from gold to white.

“What’s your name?” Luhan asked, “If I’m going to sacrifice you, then the least I could do is know your name.”

The angel trembled, shook his head, and tried to crawl away from Luhan, but Luhan reached downwards to grab the front of the angel’s clothes.

“Your name,” Luhan commanded, like a Lu.

“Lee Jae,” the angel quickly said.

“You’ll do,” Luhan smiled as he dropped the angel back down.

“Come, come,” Luhan waved them forwards, “let’s go back.”

“One second,” Jongdae said, realizing he had one more thing to do. He stalked towards the angel, rolling up his sleeve. The angle’s eyes widened, and he attempted to stumble backwards to escape, but he was unsuccessful. Jongdae roughly grabbed the front of his robes, pulled him up, and landed a hard punch on his jaw.

Apparently, he had hit him so hard he knocked the angel out, but that was too kind. Jongdae wanted the angel to be awake when he pummeled him, so he slapped his cheek until the angel stirred and gasped, writhing under Jongdae’s dark gaze. With a low chuckle, Jongdae gave the angel another moment to regain more consciousness before he punched him again. And again. And again. This was for every second Sehun spent in the cage alone. This was for them wanting to kill him. This was for them abandoning him. This was for Sehun. Jongdae’s fists were bruised, his knuckles throbbing, but Jongdae didn’t mind this type of pain.

“Do you want me to stop?” Jongdae asked, holding up the angel whose head rolled back while he looked back at Sehun, “Do you want to have a go?”

Near them, Luhan silently watched them, his head tilted and his small smile smug. Jongdae paid him no attention. His eyes were on Sehun, watching his gaze, hoping for a yes, waiting for a no.

“If you want, you can throw in another one,” Sehun said, his gaze blank. He made no move to join Jongdae, but he continued watching.

“Good with me,” Jongdae said, punching the angel one more time before finally knocking him out. Again. In disgust, he dropped the angel, watching as his body slumped onto the ashes. He wiped his hands on his pants before taking his place by Sehun’s side.

“Oh?” Luhan said, stepping towards the angel, “Sehun, I thought you would be all forgiving, all… _no, Jongdae don’t hurt him_! You continue to surprise me.”

Sehun drew away from Luhan and kept his distance, but he was calmer now, less afraid now.

“You said there are no sorries in hell,” Sehun said, “so even if he were to say sorry, why should I forgive him?”

“Then you won’t expect a sorry from me then,” Luhan simply said before snapping his fingers to make dark shadows snake around the angel’s body before constricting themselves like ropes. He then jerked the angel up, grabbed the end of the rope and started pulling him back to his castle.

Jongdae and Sehun followed because there wasn’t anywhere else they could go, but Jongdae was still cautious, keeping five steps behind Luhan.

“Don’t worry,” Luhan said. He kept his eyes on the horizon as he pictured his castle. “I have my angel. I won’t touch yours.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that you were _going_ to,” Jongdae said. There was still fire in his words, but the inferno had calmed down to a few embers.

“Hey,” Luhan said, “It’s twisted, but I was doing it for me. And you.”

Jongdae wondered why Luhan couldn’t understand him then.

“No hard feelings, Sehun?” Luhan said, “It wasn’t personal.”

“You care about Jongdae,” Sehun softly said, “and you would do anything for him. I understand that.”

But his hands still trembled, so Jongdae reached out to hold Sehun’s hand, squeezing it to reassure him that he would not let anything happen even if it was Luhan they were against.

“You give me too much credit,” Luhan said, “I’m doing this primarily for selfish reasons of course. Jongdae is just an added bonus.”

“Did you ever need the cage at all?” Jongdae asked, “or was it just Sehun?”

“What can a cage do except imprison?” Luhan scoffed. Jae’s head bumped against a rock as Luhan continued to drag him along, but no one noticed or cared. “I want to be free, not suffocated further. No, I just needed an angel so I could do something so great I could finally retire.”

"Give me the cage back,” Sehun said, raising his voice, “It’s the least you can do.”

"Done,” Luhan said, waving his free hand, “Do whatever you want with it. Burn it for all I care. I have what I need now.”

Sehun’s expression instantly hardened, and Jongdae could only imagine what Sehun would do to the cage now. The rest of their journey passed in silence, a silence that Luhan often filled because he could never shut up for more than a few moments. It seemed Luhan’s will to chatter did not smother his will to return home, as within seconds, his castle appeared on the horizon.

There was no point in hiding from Luhan anymore, but Sehun still slipped on his cloak as they entered the gates. Once inside the castle, Luhan didn’t speak to anyone, didn’t look at anyone, didn’t answer anyone’s questions as he dragged Jae through the hallways until he entered a parlor room and slammed the door behind him. Joy, Sunmi, and Yeri were already seated inside, startled by everyone’s sudden appearance.

“Who’s this?” Sunmi asked, eyes on Jae. Everyone stared at his wings.

“Did you find a Lu?” Joy asked, “but his wings are white.”

“I’m going to make him into a Lu,” Luhan grinned, “and then retire. Great, huh?”

“Where did you find an angel?” Yeri asked, getting off the couch to stare at Jae. She peeked closer at his wings and prodded them with her foot he inched away from her.

“An angel?” Joy asked, raising her eyebrows, “What’s he doing so far from home?”

“Come on now,” Luhan said, swiping the bottle of wine from the table and taking a long swig, “You can’t even recognize a real angel when he’s been here with us the whole time?”

Everyone turned to look at Sehun because it was so obvious now.

“Of course you’re an angel, love,” Sunmi let out a pleased laugh, “You were always kinder than anyone I’ve ever met. The kindest of all.”

Sehun let out a deep breath and smiled. Jongdae was just about ready to pass out from relief that none of them came at Sehun with knives.

“Jongdae you’re firebound to me _and_ an angel?” Yeri said, “Does that even count?”

“Of course you’re an angel,” Joy said, inhaling sharply, “This is the compassion they’re known for, right?”

“Compassion?” Luhan said, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, “Oh, my dears…you’ll be pleased to know that they’re no better than us. Not at all. This one wanted to have Sehun killed, so I mean….no love lost if I sacrifice him, right?”

Jongdae wanted to point out that Luhan, too, wanted to kill Sehun. But the differing reasons made him hold his tongue.

Sunmi shot off the couch, her heels clicking on the floor as she stalked towards Jae.

“He _what_ ,” she said. She didn’t stoop to his level but simply kicked his stomach, sending him keeling over.

But Jongdae couldn’t conceal the truth for long and opened his mouth.

“Did Luhan tell you he wanted to sacrifice Sehun, too?” Jongdae asked.

“He _what_ ,” Joy gasped, “Sehun? After everything? All the times we spent?”

“ _Hey,_ I was doing it for myself _and_ Jongdae. And spending time together didn’t stop Jongdae from not betraying me all those years ago, right?” Luhan said, raising his hands.

Jongdae clenched his fist but let it go. He would be free soon. Luhan would be free soon. And then he could finally speak.

“So this is your big plan,” Yeri said. Unlike Joy or Yeri, she had not even slightly reacted in surprise to the news. “Recreating Lucifer’s first act in hell. Changing an angel into a demon.”

“Into a Lu,” Luhan corrected, “Won’t it be fun? It all works out. I get off the throne, he takes my place, and my final act would be to remove Jongdae’s collar. Everyone wins. Can you imagine that? I’d be free.”

Free.

Jongdae was torn between giving into the hope or refusing to believe it would be possible. In case Luhan failed, he wouldn’t be that devastated if he didn’t believe. So he couldn’t believe.

“But the moon isn’t full yet,” Sunmi said, marching towards the windows to draw back the curtains. “It’s not time yet.”

“Why wait?” Luhan said, snapping his fingers, “The time is now.”

Outside the window, the moon thickened, its missing curves filled in until it appeared fuller than it had ever been before.

“How do you change an angel into a demon?” Yeri asked, pulling a chair near Luhan so she could observe.

“Stab them in the heart and twist the blade in as deeply as it goes,” Luhan said, “at least that’s what I heard.”

“You’re missing the other half,” Sehun spoke up.

“And what is that?” Luhan asked, “What would you know about this?”

Something dark crossed Sehun’s countenance, and he looked at Luhan with such an expression that made the slight smirk drop off of Luhan’s face.

“I was there,” Sehun said, “when Lucifer grabbed the first angel by the wings and stabbed her heart. Some angels willingly followed him here, some not. But not all wanted to be changed into what he had become.”

He really had been there for everything. Torn from heaven, pulled along to hell. He had seen hell’s creation with his own eyes, seen Lucifer change every one of his fellow angels, kill those he didn’t want.

“So what’s the final step? What’s missing?” Luhan asked, pulling out a dagger, “I have the knife, I have the heart. What do I do now?”

“When you stab the angel,” Sehun said, leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms across his chest, “stab them nice and slowly. Mean every second of it. If you hesitate, you fail. If you withdraw the blade even for a second, you fail. And if you’re sorry, you fail.”

“That’s it?” Luhan said, tossing his dagger between his hands, “I’d do anything to be free. Why would I be sorry?”

“But above all,” Sehun continued, “you have to hate. Let it consume your heart. Hate until you can’t feel anything else. That’s what poisons the heart of the angel and infects them until their wings blacken, until they’re reborn as a Lu.”

On the floor, Jae let out a horrified gasp, trying to wriggle away from them as best as he could. But Luhan grabbed the end of the rope and pulled him back, eliciting a scream from him.

“Easy enough,” Luhan said without even blinking, without hearing the scream, “I’m a Lu. We’re born with hate in our hearts.”

If that were true, then Jongdae wondered why Luhan greeted him with a smile instead of a scowl the first time they met, why he forcibly created a whole island in the middle of an ocean when Jongdae was drowning, why Luhan had every reason to hate him, but he still didn’t.

“Have a seat everyone. Watch time change,” Luhan grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His wings spread out and fluttered from his excitement, and he pulled out his dagger, snapped his fingers, and made a stone block appear out of nowhere. He whetted his knife slowly, taking his time to make the blade as sharp as possible.

There was nothing else to do, so Jongdae and Sehun sat, watching Luhan in silence as the grating sound echoed throughout the room. Now, more than ever, Jongdae was very aware of the collar around his throat. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off, but he had to be patient. The time could be now. The time had to be now.

“There has to be a mistake,” Jae finally screamed, writhing against the floor, “There has to be some other way to get what you want. Start a war. Win it. That’s something good enough to let you retire, right? You don’t have to use me.”

“Why would I do that when the reason why I’m on this throne was winning the war?” Luhan said, concentrating on his blade. He didn’t bother muffling the scraping sounds, and the terrible scratch of the dagger against the stone echoed in the room ominously.

“There’s another angel,” Jae said, jerking his head in Sehun’s direction, “I mean it when I say we meant to let him die. Just use him. Send me back.”

“And risk more of Jongdae’s anger on me?” Luhan laughed, “Why give myself a headache when you’re right here. Perfect to sacrifice. ”

“You were very clear when you said angels who enter hell are fallen and can never return. Tough luck.” Jongdae said. He was tempted to ask Luhan if he could be the one to stab Jae instead, but he knew this was something Luhan would never give up.

“You know _he_ won’t accept this,” Jae said, jerking his body around as he tried to futilely free himself from the ropes, “He won’t allow one of his own to be taken, stolen off to hell. He’ll send angels to find me. He won’t allow me to go like this.”

“But he did,” Sehun said with a laugh, “But he _did_ , and if you really think someone will come look for you, then you’re wrong. That’s what I hoped, but I was wrong. This is hell, domain of the demons. No angels come here willingly.”

“You can’t,” Jae shouted, his voice heaving, “You _can’t_ do this to me, I’m—”

“Hey,” Luhan said, eyes on his blade, “Do me a favor. Shut up.”

Instead, Jae let out a terrible scream, uselessly thrashing on the floor.

“Question,” Luhan said after a few seconds, “I think I should at least ask you which blade would you prefer to be stabbed with. The one I have now? This one was a present from my mother.”

Then with a wave of his hand, Luhan made several more knives appear and hover in the air in front of him.

“Or this one? This one has fire for a blade, so I can’t imagine how that would actually feel…Or this one? It has rubies on the hilt, so if you want to go down in a wonderfully aesthetic manner, then by all means choose that one. Or—” Luhan began to say, studying the blades carefully.

A loud, desperately strangled scream interrupted them. It sounded similar to what Jongdae thought he would have sounded like if he had screamed instead of repressing all the pain when the collar pained him. Luhan waited, hands on his hips until the scream faded into rapid breathing, into panicked prayers.

“I am so glad I won’t have to sacrifice you, Sehun,” Luhan mused as he made the rest of the daggers disappear and continued sharpening his first dagger, “I don’t know if I really would’ve been able to do it. Jongdae would’ve hated me for sure, but that’s not what would’ve stopped me. I just kept imagining all your _Luhan, you’re too sweet to do this!_ And all your _Luhan, you’re kind. It’s okay, I forgive you._ What the fuck, am I right?”

“You had me worried for a second,” Sehun admitted. He was surer that Luhan wouldn’t harm him now, but he still preferred to sit far away. “But I understand wanting to do anything for those you love.”

Luhan let out a laugh and focused on his knife.

“And you’re just going to let me do this to a different angel instead? Maybe you’re right. Maybe you do belong in hell,” Luhan said.

“They didn’t do anything to help me, so why should I help this one,” Sehun scoffed. There was that familiar shadowy expression on Sehun’s face, and Jongdae wondered if it had always been there, if it had grown with him when he was isolated for years or if it was new, or if it was a new gift hell gave him.

“Sehun,” Jae said, crawling near Sehun’s feet, eyes up, hair disheveled. Jongdae was sure if Jae’s hands weren’t fastened by his sides, he would’ve clasped them together. If he was able to, he would’ve kneeled by Sehun and grasped at his feet.

“ _Please_ ,” Jae begged, “From one angel to another? Please? Have some mercy…that’s what we are, right? Merciful. Compassionate. We’re angels, we’re better than this, than all of _hell_. Make Luhan spare me. _Please_.”

A deluge of _please, please, please_ continued to fall out of Jae’s lips, and with every second that passed, it increased in volume, his voice growing shakier, more tearful, more desperate. More terrified.

Jongdae was concerned for a moment that hell was the place to blame, that he and the other demons were to blame for the single raised eyebrow on Sehun’s otherwise dangerously stoic expression. That he was the one who had dimmed Sehun’s light and darkened his heart. But really, after listening to Sehun finally respond, he realized it was not hell, but time. Not any of them, just a Lu. Not any demons, but all angels.

“It’s funny,” Sehun said, but he wasn’t laughing, wasn’t even smiling, “that’s what I said for years and years and years. Eventually all my prayers became just that one word. Please. Could you even hear me? Did you stop listening after years and years passed?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” Jae cried out, “I wasn’t even born when you were taken! You can’t blame me for what the others chose instead.”

“No, but you wanted me dead,” Sehun said, tapping a single finger on the arm of his chair.

“Orders,” Jae stammered, “they were _orders_.”

“That you chose to follow,” Sehun clucked his tongue, “so really, I’m not inclined to spare you when your sacrifice could set Jongdae free.”

“Oh, hell’s really rubbed off on you, Sehun,” Luhan said. He snapped his fingers to make the stone disappear and finally held up his sharpened dagger to the light, turning it around as he examined it further. “I can’t wait to see how a couple years here will change you.”

Sehun finally dropped his gaze and turned away for a second. In the meantime, Luhan tossed his dagger back and forth and circled around Jae thoughtfully.

“If you’re going to be a Lu, then you’re getting a new name,” Luhan said.

“I’m Lee Jae,” Jae screamed, thrashing against the floor, “That’s it. Not a _Lu_.”

“Let’s see,” Luhan said, ignoring Jae’s words, “Lee Jae…Lu Jae? No it doesn’t have that nice ring all Lu names should have…Lu Lee Jae? We can’t have two L’s, no…Let’s drop that second L, shall we? Lu ee Jae. LueeJae. Luigé? Luigi. There! Behold, Luigi, the next demon of hell.” 

The other demons nodded politely and offered some applause, but Luhan was seized with a wild frenzy of delight, of horrific glee. This would end his time serving hell. This would allow him to reclaim his own time, his own life away from the throne. He was free to do whatever he wanted forever and ever after this.

Jae screamed and screamed as Luhan pushed a knee on his back and prepared to stab him.

“Hey Jongdae,” Luhan called out, that mad grin plastered to his face, “This one’s for you just as it is for me.”

Jongdae only nodded in return. He could not hope. He would not hope. It was too dangerous to hope. This was why he hadn’t told Luhan all these years anyways.

With a laugh, Luhan brought down the knife and plunged it as hard as he could into Jae’s back. He calmly twisted the blade in deeper and deeper into Jae’s heart. Jongdae watched in silence, tempted to plug his ears to drown out the screaming.

Sehun, for all his talk, watched with his hands over his mouth. Never did he raise his voice to tell Luhan to stop, but he watched for only a second longer before striding across the room to stand by the window to stare outside. It was a familiar movement, Jongdae realized. Except this time he was free to join Sehun by the window. They stood side by side for a while, looking down at the faint outlines of the line until at last, silence fell.

“Did it work?” Yeri finally asked, “Is this what you looked like when you were born?”

“His wings…are they supposed to look like that at first?” Sunmi said.

“He doesn’t look like a Lu,” Joy slowly said.

At that, Jongdae turned around and saw. There was Jae, twitching, hysterical, golden blood pooling around his body. Luhan pulled the dagger out slowly from Jae’s body and rose. Jae’s wings had not turned the deep black color that matched Luhan’s. It was not even the slightest bit dark gray, and it was as if someone had blown smoke and cinders onto his wings.

“Do you feel any different?” Luhan asked with a low voice as he relaxed his arm and dropped it by his side. But Jae was too busy screaming, clawing at the floor in pain to notice.

“I failed,” Luhan announced at last when the realization finally struck him, the dagger slipping out of his grasp and falling to the floor with a clang. The sound echoed for a second before Luhan threw himself onto the nearest chair and hid his face in his hands. He looked like how Jongdae had looked when he realized his side had lost the war.

Luhan repeated the words again, blankly staring into nowhere.

“So Jongdae won’t be free either?” Sehun finally spoke. His wings drooped.

Jongdae tried to send him a half-hearted smile to reassure him that he was fine. But honestly, even if he couldn’t bring himself to hope for the best, he still felt. Crushed. That was a chance, lost. An attempt, failed. So from now until the end, there were still five hundred years left to suffer before Jongdae could finally tear the collar off his neck.

“Of course not,” Luhan snapped, hitting the arm of his chair in frustration, “If I couldn’t succeed, then what makes you think I can retire now? What makes you think I have the power to remove what my father gave him? And besides. It’s not like he deserves it. Do you all not know what he did? Do you not remember?”

“But we’re demons,” Joy gently said, “Isn’t that what we do?”

“But when have you ever?” Luhan snarled, throwing his hands into the air, “When has anyone ever since the war? Look where the other is now. Jongdae’s lucky it’s only a collar.”

“Hasn’t Jongdae ever told you why he did it?” Sehun asked, looking around and waiting for an answer. He received none. “What! Hasn’t he told anyone at all?”

“I don’t need to hear it,” Luhan said, “He is who he is. A demon.”

Jongdae had accepted that he would have to be stuck in this collar a while longer, but he didn’t accept this silence, this stiffness anymore. No. He was done. He would speak no matter the consequence, deliver the failed hope even if it killed Luhan.

“You told me when we were both younger that you would’ve done anything to escape this throne,” Jongdae suddenly spoke before he could change his mind, “Do you remember?”

Luhan’s expression darkened.

“It was the only time I said that out loud. You remembered?” he said.

“I also remember you didn’t do anything about it. You went to lessons with your father, listened as he told you all the things you needed to do,” Jongdae said.

“And I hated every second,” Luhan said.

“I know. So I did it for you. Whatever you wanted, I’ve always given you…At least I tried,” Jongdae said.

Luhan still didn’t understand, only looking at Jongdae for a moment before scoffing.

“Come on,” Luhan said, “You really expect me to believe that? You did it for him. You wanted to give him the throne. Ji Orge. I remember you said wouldn’t it be funny if we had a demon named George rule next.”

The name of the demon caused a heavy silence to suffocate the room. No one dared to look at each other. After years of eternity, that was one thing that could not change. He was serving his time looking after punishment while they were happy out here. As happy as they could be. 

“No, Jongdae. I don’t need to hear your excuses. Feel to commit all the sins without sorries, all the betrayals without forgiveness. You are who you are. A demon. A traitor,” Luhan finished, dismissing Jongdae with a wave.

Something inside of Jongdae snapped.

“I _told_ you, Luhan,” he yelled, banging his fist on the table, sending it rattling, “I did it for you, you fucking fool…I did it for _you_.”

Perhaps it was the shattering of the wine glasses that smashed to the floor, the angry, frustrated tears that threatened to fall from Jongdae’s eyes, or the force, the raw desperation that he shouted these words with, but Luhan looked at Jongdae, listened. And believed.

The silence was too thick, thicker than smoky air around them, and Luhan could only stare. But Jongdae had been holding this inside of him for so long, so even if the truth would kill Luhan, then Jongdae would murder him anyways.

“I know you don’t fucking want this title,” Jongdae said, pausing to take a short breath before surging onwards, “You’ve never admitted it when you were older, but I grew up with you. You pulled me from the ashes, gave me my wings, and I stayed by your side for eternity. How could I not know you never wanted this? How could I not know you never wanted the burden of your name? How could I not notice how you hate sitting and judging everyone day after day after day, time after time after time?”

Jongdae paused again, letting his blood cool for a moment. He watched Luhan who ducked his head and stared at the ground to avoid looking at anyone, to avoid looking at Jongdae. But Jongdae could still see the shadows twisting on his face, his lips pressing together to hide the tremble. It was too late to go back if Luhan was this mad his lips were wobbling, so Jongdae pressed onwards.

“I saw the chance to take it away from you,” Jongdae exhaled, slightly calmer now. “If I manipulated that demon into actually taking the throne, then the Jis would have ruled hell for who knows how long. And you would’ve been free.”

There were many demons that came and went. Some left castles to move to other Lus’ households to stay because eternity was too long to remain in just one place for a time. Some escaped to Earth and served their time there. But always, it had been Luhan and Jongdae. Jongdae and Luhan. Wherever they went. Whenever they went. And right now, Jongdae was only aware of Luhan despite everyone else that stared and stared and stared. Always Luhan. He knew what every expression meant, what those clenched fists meant, what that shaking of his head meant. But he didn’t say anything about them now.

“So that’s why I’m not sorry, Luhan. I’m never sorry. Not for trying,” Jongdae finished, “but I am sorry I failed. Because you’re still here, you’re still Luhan, and I failed to take away the throne that you hate so much.”

Jongdae breathed, and sure enough, he knew what would come next. Luhan collapsing to his knees, pulling at his hair. His chest heaved up and down for a second and his shoulders shook silently before he let out a loud laugh. He continued laughing, shrieking as he fell to his side. Jongdae didn’t know why the laughs started to sound like sobs, but there was still a wild grin on Luhan’s face as he shook his head, rolling on the floor, pounding it with his fist.

Finally, he pulled himself off the ground, still laughing, and pointed a finger at Jongdae from where he sat.

“There was a part of me that wanted you to succeed,” Luhan said, swiping at his cheeks, “but I don’t know what would’ve been harder. Giving up the throne, or giving up you.”

“You didn’t give up either,” Jongdae said, “You still have both. You still have me.”

“And I hate that,” Luhan said, getting to his feet. He strode to the table, picked up the discarded bottle of wine, and stalked off without looking back.

Jongdae watched him go.

The second that Luhan disappeared as he slammed the door behind him seemed almost like the longest second of his life. With nothing else to do or say, Jongdae snapped out of his daze and felt his knees weaken. Before he had time to fall, he felt arms catch him. Yeri supported one side, Sehun his other. Behind him, Sunmi pushed a chair over for him to sit, and Joy handed him over a glass of water. They all sat together in silence until Sunmi burst into tears.

Joy comforted her, but the tears seemed contagious, and she now behaved in a way similar to how she did when she visited her dead in the fields.

“What now?” Yeri asked, though she stood up to tend to the two other demons, “Jongdae already cried. Must you, too?”

He did? He didn’t remember that. He only remembered the exact look on Luhan’s face before he turned his back on him again and left.

“I…” Sunmi began to say before a loud sob overcame her, “Jongdae, I really…”

Jongdae knew what she was about to say so he reached over to take her hand. Sehun stood up, hovering over her and quietly dabbing away her tears. He then turned his attention to the others, placing a comforting hand on Joy’s shoulder, peering at Yeri to check if she was fine before she turned away.

“If this is how Luhan thought of you, then what must _he_ think of me?” Sunmi finally cried out.

Ji Orge.

Jorge.

“When the war started, I stayed on Luhan’s side,” Sunmi said, her shoulders hunching over, “I had to fight you…I had to fight my own firebound demon. If Luhan can’t accept your reasons, then I’m guilty, too. I’m the traitor, too. He left first, but I didn’t follow him. He ended up punished, sent to the punishment division for the rest of time, but I stayed here. We aren’t supposed to give up on each other, but he must think I did. I did.”

“Sunmi,” Joy said, “You can’t think like that.”

“If I did it for Luhan, then you must’ve done it for him, too,” Jongdae wearily said, “You must’ve had your own reasons.”

“I didn’t think he could win,” Sunmi admitted, “You can’t change time. Eternity has been ruled by the Lus, and when has that ever been different? The Jis are a big demon family, but they’re not the Lus.”

“Thank you for your faith in me,” Jongdae let out a laugh. He knew the chances of his side actually succeeding were scarce, but it was better than doing. Not trying. Not fighting.

“No, really,” Sunmi said, “it killed me to see you on the opposite side, but I knew if I stayed, then maybe I could convince Luhan to spare him if he lost. Maybe I could lessen his punishment.”

“He was supposed to die,” Yeri remembered, “die forever and ever, stabbed every time he awoke from the fire, thrown back into the darkness, one way or another. I wondered why his punishment was so small. So that was you, Sunmi.”

“I begged Luhan’s father for something that’d keep him alive, but all he got was this punishment. Who likes to even visit the torture division? Who likes to give punishment and watch it forever? I left him there and didn’t even follow. I didn’t even say good-bye,” Sunmi said, hugging herself tightly.

"We’re eternal,” Sehun said, “We have time. Good-byes aren’t permanent. Hellos aren’t forever. We meet and we leave. We love and we leave. But there’s always time to change, to say hello again instead of good-bye.”

Sunmi wiped the last of her tears and turned to them all.

“It’s been a long time,” Sunmi said, taking a deep breath, “for all of us. Five hundred years have felt like an eternity. Why didn’t you say anything sooner, Jongdae?”

“Did you see Luhan?” Jongdae said, gaze flicking to the door, “The truth is killing him. He could’ve been free only if I succeeded.”

“Why couldn’t you have,” Yeri said in a quiet voice, “Why couldn’t you have, Jongdae? Do you know how many times I’ve tried thinking of a way for you to escape that collar? What type of a demon am I if I can’t even help my firebound? I’m supposed to know every way in and out of every chain, every trick. But what’s the point if I couldn’t help you?”

“Yeri,” Jongdae sighed, his gaze softening as he turned to her. He tried to tousle her hair, but she moved out of his way this time, smiling despite herself as she blocked his hand. “I didn’t care if you could free me or not. That’s my problem. But I just wanted to spend more time with you, you know? Just like always.”

Yeri looked at him, the bottom lip wavering before she launched herself at him, pressing her face into his chest, balling up the fabric of his clothes in her fists.

“Do you know how lucky you are, to have Jongdae welcome you from the fire?” Yeri asked, peeking up at Sehun, “for him to be your firebound?”

“Yeah,” Sehun slowly nodded, “The luckiest.”

“Oh, sweetie, you’re an angel,” Joy laughed, swatting at Sehun’s shoulder, “What would you know about waking up from the fire, blinking ashes out of your eyes.”

“I don’t know about that, but he really did give me a tattoo,” Sehun said, slipping out of his shirt a little to show them again, “See?”

“It looks like a three,” Yeri said.

“It really means Jongdae’s lips,” Sehun beamed.

“Ohh,” Sunmi said, tracing it with her fingers. It curled around and twitched under her touch. “It really does look like the curl of your lips, Jongdae.”

“He covered up my scar here,” Sehun said, pointing to his shoulder and tracing the path down as best as he could, “You can’t even notice it, right?”

“Why would you have a scar?” Yeri asked, “I don’t see anything.”

Sehun’s smile wobbled, and he struggled to keep it on his face.

“Lucifer stabbed me with the end of a hook, and when he pulled me along, dragged me down to hell, it tore across my skin and sank into my shoulder,” Sehun said.

“I’m so sorry,” Sunmi said, quickly drawing her hand back. She was always the first to have sorry on her lips. She could never finish the word, always started with the _sor_ , but never ended with the _ry_ because Luhan always cut her off. Or she caught herself before she could finish. But with Luhan gone, the past out in the open, the word fell easily out of her lips.

“Don’t be,” Sehun said, “You didn’t do this to me.”

“Still,” Sunmi said, slowly placing her hand back on Sehun’s shoulder, “Lucifer’s one of our kind. You must think the worst of us. You must hate us.”

“I could have,” Sehun admitted, “but when it was Jongdae who brought me back into time, you who treated me kindly, then why should I? If there’s anyone I hate, it’s the angels who let me go…who refused to even come to look for me. Who wanted to let me die and tried to kill me when I wouldn’t.”

“I guess we’re all more alike then we think,” Joy said.

Not a single one of them dared to say they hoped the past would come back, but it was what they were all thinking, what they were hoping for when they looked at each other and tried to smile. Tried to start again.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

It was easy to slip into past patterns once all those confessions were made. How they used to laugh, how they used to joke, how they used to live. But every now and then, one of them mentioned the war, what had happened, or one of them remembered Jongdae’s collar. Then a terrible silence would seize up, freezing time for a split second. They didn’t give up during those times, no. The past was tainted, but they could still seize the present, hope for the future.

Luhan, however, had disappeared into his room and refused to come out or respond to anyone’s knocks or calls.

“He’s just being dramatic,” Jongdae said after he knocked three times and received no response.

“You told him the truth,” Sehun said, striking the door a few times himself, “He probably just needs time to think.”

They returned often to try again. Every time Jongdae would knock and receive no response, it was hard to stay optimistic. It was hard to shrug that silence off and not think that he had finally ruined the shreds of whatever was left, that he had extinguished the last tiny candle Luhan had in his heart. It was hard not to think they were finished.

“But nothing’s gone forever,” Sehun said when they tried again the next day to no success, “We have all the time in the world.”

That didn’t make waiting hurt any less. The more time spent like this, the worst it felt.

“Yeah…he’s just being dramatic,” Jongdae said, his words faltering, “You know Luhan.”

He could not help but try again and struck the wood with his fist three times.

Only silence.

“Luhan, you have enough wine in there? Open up so I can give you some,” Jongdae said.

If Luhan would not answer for that, then Jongdae knew it was bad.

“You can try again later,” Sehun said, leading Jongdae away after a few minutes of nothing. Jongdae looked back and tried not to feel this hurt.

On the third day, Jongdae was back, knocking on the door, calling Luhan’s name unsuccessfully. After he grew tired, he sat with his back to his door with Sehun next to him. Occasionally the others tried to call Luhan, but were unsuccessful, too. Jongdae could only remember a silence this stony in one other time in his life.

500 years ago.

Right after the collar was fastened around his neck.

Luhan didn’t disappear into his room, but he had disappeared from Jongdae’s life, cutting corners to avoid him in the hallways, eating at different hours to avoid him. Never speaking, never looking. It hurt just as much as it did back then, but Luhan had been the one to break the silence, though the first thing he said to Jongdae was to bring him some wine. Better than nothing. The only difference now was that Jongdae was not willing to let that happen again.

“I’m going to stay here until you talk to me,” Jongdae said, knocking again, “Do you hear that?”

Silence.

“I’ll waste away here, Luhan. I mean it,” Jongdae said, “I’ll just stay here and refuse to leave until you answer me and open the door.”

There was silence, but Jongdae tried to think of how Luhan would respond.

 _It’s not like we need food and water to survive. It’s not like we’d die this easily_.

“I meant what I said,” Jongdae sighed, pressing his cheek to the door as he traced patterns into the wood with a finger, “I did it for you.”

 _I didn’t ask_.

“Hey Luhan,” Jongdae tried again, a little louder, a little braver, “Fuck you.”

_Hey Jongdae. Fuck you, too._

Jongdae thought of something that would make Luhan come out immediately.

“Luhan,” Jongdae said, “I _h_ —”

But the word stopped on his lips, sounding only like a short exhale. He could not finish the word, and he released it as he breathed. He could not say he hated Luhan because he would not be ready for the _I hate you, too_.

He tried again. Something kinder, something softer.

“I just…want my brother back,” Jongdae said so quietly that he didn’t care if Luhan heard him or not, “If I had known this was the price, then I would’ve let you rot on that fucking throne without lifting a finger to do anything every time you complained. I would’ve been selfish and kept the way things were, the way we were instead of starting that war. I guess it doesn’t matter now since you’re still here, right? Still here on that _ugly_   _fucking_ iron ch—”

Suddenly the door swung open, sending Jongdae falling to the ground. He looked up, about to shout out in surprise, in relief, but he only saw footsteps thunder forwards, tearing through the hallways. Jongdae blinked in shock before running after him. He called after Luhan, tried to catch up to him, but his pleas fell onto deaf ears.

Luhan seemed to at least hear Jongdae approaching closer and spread out his wings, soaring through the hallways. Jongdae was prepared to uselessly run after him, expecting to be outpaced, but felt arms grab him and saw a burst of light brighten the hall. Sehun had freed his wings and carried Jongdae in his arms as they continued to pursue Luhan.

“Sehun, your _wings_ ,” Jongdae said, “what if someone sees?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore,” Sehun said, dipping down to avoid hitting a chandelier, “Luhan’s more important to you, right? And who doesn’t know by now. There’s no point in hiding.”

“Besides,” Sehun added with a smile, guiding them through the castle as demons gasped when they saw Luhan and Sehun soar above them, “it’s not like you’ll let anyone hurt me.”

Despite the urgency of the situation, Jongdae found room in himself to let out a laugh and press a kiss to Sehun’s cheek as best as he could. As a breeze pushed his bangs back and caressed his cheeks, he promised of course, of course, of _course_. Of course he would never allow anything to ever harm Sehun. His Sehun.

Luhan stopped and stalked through the hallway of Lu portraits until he finally reached his own. Sunmi was already there on a ladder, dusting the curtain while Joy and Yeri steadied it from below. They stared at Luhan with wide eyes, but Jongdae couldn’t tell what Luhan looked like because his back was still turned to him. Luhan waved his hand with a flourish, causing the others to climb off the ladder and stand to the side. He then stamped his feet on the metal railings, aggressively climbing up the ladder before he tore off the curtain, revealing his portrait that he had hidden for so long.

Many Lus liked having symbols of power with them as they posed in their paintings. Others preferred to simply let the luxurious state of their clothes and jewels speak for themselves. But when it was Luhan’s turn to hang up a portrait when he turned of age before he had ascended the throne, he didn’t choose any flashing gems or corpses to pose with.

There he was, sitting in the middle of the painting on a black velvet chair with golden embroidering, one hand resting on the arm of the chair, the other holding a glass of wine because this was Luhan after all. On his left hand side stood Sunmi, on his right Jongdae, and below them sat Yeri and Joy. Behind Jongdae stood Ji Orge. This was when he hadn’t given into greed, deceived by Jongdae’s manipulation. This was when he was still kind, not willing to hurt anyone else for what he wanted.

They’d all smiled when they had posed for that painting, happy to sit together, happy to mean enough to each other. Most Lus had swords and weapons to show off their power, but Luhan showed off his heart.

They all stood, all of them too busy looking at the painting that in the silence and span of the moment, Luhan had pulled out a dagger. Before anyone could stop him, Luhan placed one hand on the top right side of the painting to steady himself before plunging the dagger into the canvas and ripping a diagonal line downwards. The loud tear shocked everyone into silence. Jongdae forgot to breathe for a second, feeling like someone had just squeezed his heart, twisting it with two hands. 

“ _No_ ,” Sunmi cried out, wrenching the ladder and shaking it. Luhan lost his balance from where he stood, though as Sunmi pushed the ladder away, the force sending it toppling, he spread his wings again and flew before he could fall.

Without hesitating, he stabbed the painting on the other side and ripped into the canvas, drawing and ending with a slashed X.

Without saying anything at all, he ripped the painting off from the wall, leaving a blank space that had not seen light since all those years ago.

Without looking back, he gripped the painting tightly and flew away. 

If Jongdae had any hope of things turning out better with time, then it was gone now. How could he hold onto that hope when the others were crying? When Luhan looked at no one, let alone him? When Luhan had ripped apart the last remnant of the past.

Jongdae let him go this time, too stunned to chase after him.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

This time, it was Jongdae’s turn to stay locked up in his room. But unlike Luhan, he only mourned for half a day. Half a day spent curled up into a ball with his eyes closed, blankets piled over him. Sehun had pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly, brushing Jongdae’s bangs when it slid across his eyes, pressing kisses to Jongdae’s cheek in between little murmurs that things would be fine. Because they were immortal, they had time to forgive.

“But Luhan doesn’t forgive,” Jongdae had murmured, hiding himself in Sehun’s chest. Usually Sehun felt like the small one that Jongdae wanted to hold, to protect. This time he was the one hiding away, letting Sehun shield him from the past, the present, the lurking promise of the future. “He doesn’t believe in sorries.”

“He’ll have to since it’s you,” Sehun said, “He’ll come around. Today or tomorrow. Or the next year, years, millennium.”

“That’s too long,” Jongdae said.

“I know,” Sehun said, and Jongdae shivered as he heard the sound rumble through Sehun’s chest.

“But he will forgive?” Jongdae said, sounding weak, sounding too soft. “Do you think he’d forgive me?”

“I don’t know about him,” Sehun said, “but I think I would have understood your heart if I were in his place. At least you tried all of that for him…even if it may not have seemed like it. He’s just…”

“Being dramatic,” Jongdae finished. He hoped. He really hoped.

They lapsed into silence. Silence with Luhan had been stiff, awkward seconds that Luhan had to fill when he couldn’t handle it anymore. Silence with Sehun felt like how eternity should be. It was long enough to do nothing and relax with those his heart beat for, but was still not long enough. There was a certain comfortableness in which they could close their eyes and drift off to sleep in each other’s arms.

Jongdae couldn’t fall asleep that day, no. His mind was thinking, always thinking.

“Time is ours, so why can’t we skip to the part where things are better?” Jongdae asked softly, breaking the silence.

“We’re immortal, but we’re not gods,” Sehun said.

“No,” Jongdae said, sitting up, “but I’m a demon. We’re selfish, so we take whatever we want. And I want Luhan back.”

“So go get him,” Sehun said, sitting up next to him, “Who said we have to wait for time to heal things?”

Determined again, Jongdae raced down the halls a few moments later, Sehun straight on his heels. For hours straight, or at least what felt like hours, he banged on Luhan’s door, shouting at him for him to get out, to at least talk to him. When he was tired, he sat down by the door. Then it was Sunmi’s turn. Then Joy’s when Sunmi was tired. Then Yeri’s turn when Joy was tired. Sehun took over when his demons were all exhausted and all curling up into a pile near Luhan’s door. He would not raise his voice, but knocked gently, consistently, like a soft heartbeat. His voice was never raised, so if Luhan really wanted to listen, he’d have to crane his neck, strain his ears, or move closer, move towards the door to hear.

For days they stayed like this all together, waiting for Luhan to come out.

And on the seventh day, when Jongdae least expected it, the door did not swing open like it did last time, but slowly opened, giving him time to pull himself up before he fell. He looked up and saw Luhan who held a painting he covered with a curtain. There was a strange expression on his face, and Jongdae waited for him to say something, to say anything at all. But he never did. Luhan noticed all of them sitting there and carefully stepped over them. Without looking back, he spread his wings and took down the hall just like he had done the last time. Jongdae watched him go before the others all leapt up and ran after him. They caught up to him just as he was placing a new painting in the empty space.

Luhan was about to remove the curtain before Jongdae called out to him.

“Luhan,” Jongdae shouted across the hallway, loud and clear.

Finally, Luhan turned and stared at Jongdae. He took one good, long look at Jongdae, the first time he had acknowledged at him in those seven days.

“I’m —” Jongdae began to say before he realized. 

Oh.

Seven days.

He had forgotten.

Of course this now.

Of course.

Of course.

Of course.

Before he could finish what he wanted to say, the missing word was strangled, silenced as Jongdae let out a pained yell and immediately clutched at his neck, falling to his knees. Sehun let out a gasp and caught him before he could hit the ground. Jongdae could only vaguely feel himself lowered down as Sehun cradled him in his arms, pressed him against his chest.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Sehun said, his voice trembling but his grasp strong. Immediately, the pain dimmed, and Jongdae could afford to let out half a sigh, open his eyes halfway. But he heard everything, felt every frantically spoken word as he suffered. “I’m here, Jongdae. Do you feel me? See me? I’m here, I’m here, I’m here with you.”

Thundering footsteps.

_Forever until forever ends._

Warm hands.

_Till the end of time._

Someone crying.

_I’ll take your pain._

A yell right by his side.

_And make it mine._

“I _hate_ you,” a voice suddenly shouted.

Jongdae’s eyes flew wide open, and with whatever strength he had, turned to find that voice.

His eyelids drooped, his heart dropped for a second when he saw Luhan kneeling by his side, his bottom lip trembling with the weight of the word. But Jongdae knew better when he saw Luhan’s disheveled hair, his hands tightly pressing against his ears as if he was still trying to block out the sound of Jongdae’s first scream.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate _you_ ,” Luhan yelled, his wings sagging, his hands moving to cover his eyes as he bent over, almost facing the ground.

Jongdae listened as Sehun shouted _not now, Luhan_ , as the others wept around him, and found the energy to let out a chuckle.

Fingers shaking from the effort, Jongdae reached out to touch Luhan’s hand and pull it away from his face.

“No you don’t, no you don’t, no you don’t,” Jongdae hoarsely whispered as he studied Luhan’s half covered face. He knew this much after seeing Luhan like this. His eyebrows knitted upwards, his eyes rimmed red, and something so incredibly weak in his gaze.

This movement was all Jongdae could muster before he let his hand fall.

“For the past five hundred years, I tried _so_ hard to look away, to cover my ears because I didn’t want to see you like this,” Luhan yelled, punching the floor with a fist, “and now you’re telling me you did all of this, suffered that for me? I _hate_ you, Jongdae, I—”

He let out a strangled scream, clutching his head as he rocked back and forth. Jongdae watched him, and now, he was not sure if this was the work of the collar or something else, but he swore he felt as if someone had plunged a dull dagger into his chest, slowly cutting, stabbing, until it finally impaled his heart.

“No you don’t,” Jongdae said, his voice wavering for a second. He felt Sehun’s hand gently brush away something from his cheek.

“I…” Luhan said, his chest heaving up and down as he was torn between breathing or screaming. Or crying.

Or crying.

Luhan swiped a hand across his cheek and glared before pointing a shaking finger at Jongdae.

“You don’t fucking understand,” Luhan said through gritted teeth, “After your side lost the war, I knew how my father was going to punish you. This collar…Trapping a demon for a thousand years? It would be your punishment, but his escape from the throne. One final act so damning, so unspeakable that he’d be able to retire.”

“So I caused your rise to the throne anyways,” Jongdae said, feeling light-headed, “Things never go my way do they.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Luhan said, his shoulders shaking, “I fought for you…the night before they were going to deal out the punishments and retributions, I fought with my father, arguing until I couldn’t speak anymore for the whole night long. Anything but this. Anyone but you.”

Faintly, Jongdae realized the collar had finally stopped paining him. At least for this week. But his heart still felt heavy. Luhan had fought for him? Even if he had thought he was a traitor back then?

“You know how that ended,” Luhan said, a little calmer now, his gaze moving to Jongdae’s collar, “But you don’t know that the longest moment of my whole existence was the second my father poured boiling iron onto your neck and sealed it with his own hands.”

Jongdae remembered trying not to scream but failing. Although, the feeling of boiling, melted iron on his skin was nothing compared to the other pains the collar dealt him.

“We measure eternity by who runs hell,” Luhan said, pausing to slowly exhale. His hands were no longer clenched into fists, but his hair was still disheveled, and his wings still drooping. “Lucifer’s time. My father’s time. My time. But for me, time stopped when my father put you in that collar and I could do nothing but watch.” 

“Too bad I failed, right?” Jongdae said, “I did something, and I’m paying the price. I just didn’t expect to lose.”

“Yeah. I thought I taught you that we fight to win, Jongdae,” Luhan said, beginning to look up.

“If you spent less time drinking, we would’ve had more time to train,” Jongdae said. He felt hands support him as he began to sit up. When he finally sat, he found himself in Sehun’s lap, perched on his thighs while Sehun’s arms wrapped around him securely just in case he were to fall again.

“What am I supposed to do except drink the years away, Jongdae?” Luhan said.

“Train. Paint. Live,” Jongdae said.

Love.

Luhan scoffed and sat up straighter, his wings slightly lifting up now.

“What’s that anyways,” Jongdae said, pointing to the curtained painting.

“ _Oh_ ,” Luhan stood up and flew to the painting, hovering by it, “I almost forgot.”

Without any further hesitation, Luhan tore the curtain off to reveal the painting.

What he revealed had Jongdae scrambling up to his feet, looking and relooking again to make sure he had seen right.

Jongdae hoped to see the old painting back, restored, fixed up. But he should’ve hoped more because Luhan placed a new portrait, the paint freshly dried, the color still vibrant, over the space. It looked almost like the old one, though everyone was wearing different clothes. There Luhan sat in the middle, reclining in his luxurious armchair with a smirk on his face, wine glass in one hand. But this time he kept a dagger in his lap, his other hand lightly resting on it, as if to send a warning that if anyone else in this portrait were harmed, he’d kill them.

On Luhan’s right hand side stood Jongdae, on his left stood Sunmi, and Joy and Yeri sat below them.

But this time there was no remnant of the past, no demon that haunted them in the shadows. This time, there was only something brighter, something more beautiful. Because there, peeking out from behind Jongdae was Sehun. His golden wings were hidden, but his smile still glowed. They were all smiling, all happy. Of course, it didn’t look like this now, not even close. But it was a promise, that the future could bend to reflect what Luhan wanted, what they all wanted.

Everyone gasped after they saw the painting. Jongdae let out the loudest laugh, the most genuinely delighted laugh, and found himself leaning on the opposite wall to support himself. He wanted to scream, let out a yell, a relieved yell, and though his feet touched the ground, though his winged tattoos could do nothing more than crawl and flutter on his skin, he felt like he was flying. Around him, he heard someone burst into tears.

“Why the fuck are you crying?” Luhan spoke, turning away from the painting to give everyone a proper look. “We’re back, demons. We’re _back._ ”

“I took out Jorge,” Luhan said, mouth quirking up as he noticed Sunmi’s tears, “But I’m not sorry. He was a bit of a dick anyways, right? And it’s not like he’s here.”

“No,” Sunmi said, smiling despite everything, “but we’re still here, so that’s all that matters.”

“You…painted me here, too?” Sehun said, his voice soft. He stepped closer and closer to the painting to take a look at it, tilting his head upwards to marvel at Luhan’s art.

“Well, you’re Jongdae’s, right?” Luhan said, “And if you’re Jongdae’s, then you’re mine, and if you’re mine, then you’re hell’s. We both have wings, so I don’t see why you can’t be a demon, too.”

Sehun’s jaw dropped, and he covered his mouth with his hands, turning to look at Luhan with wide eyes. He tried several times to say something, but just like the first time Jongdae had spoken to him, he tripped over words, started new sentences and questions before he could even finish the first or second or third thing he wanted to say. Luhan let him try a little longer before cutting him off again.

“Hell will take better care of you than heaven ever did,” Luhan nodded, “those dusty fuckers up there missed so much.”

This time, Sehun finally blurted out a coherent sentence, loud and clear.

“Thank you,” Sehun said, “ _Thank you_. But you’re wrong.”

Before Luhan could respond, Sehun continued.

“I came from heaven, so I’m still an angel. But heaven isn’t where I belong anymore, clearly. I think I could belong here. Yes. I think this is where I’ll stay. Thank you for giving me a chance before I could fly away,” Sehun beamed.  

“Well, you better,” Luhan said, smiling easily, “because if you were to leave Jongdae, then I’d have to hunt you down. I’d like it if my brother could keep his heart whole and intact.”

 _Brother_.

“Of course,” Sehun nodded, “I’ll take good care of him. He has my heart.”

 _Heart_.

“I fucking…” Jongdae said, not knowing what to say, “Who wants a fucking drink.”

Sunmi grabbed Sehun’s hand, saying that they would go to the kitchen to fetch food. Joy and Yeri promised they’d be back with only the finest of wines from Luhan’s collection. They hadn’t eaten or drank in seven days after all. He suspected not a single one of them did. Not even Luhan.

Luhan and Jongdae were left behind, both still staring at the painting, both standing side by side. Jongdae’s heart was singing, and he let out another sparkling laugh, shaking his head as if this was all too good to be true. Too good to be real. He didn’t notice Luhan turn to stare at him, his lips slightly curled up.

“You know, I actually forgave you a couple of days ago. Before I ripped up the painting,” Luhan said, turning back to admire his art.

Jongdae’s shoulders relaxed and he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as he turned to look at Luhan, noticing how his expression had softened.

“Then why did you wait this long?” Jongdae asked, “You were killing me with the silence.”

“Well, I needed time to paint this one,” Luhan said, “and, you know. Just for the drama of it all.”

Jongdae laughed and lightly punched Luhan’s arm. Luhan kept his expression blank for a second before joy ignited on his face and he grinned, punching Jongdae back, though a little harder.

“So we’re good?” Jongdae asked.

“Of course not,” Luhan shook his head, causing Jongdae’s heart to stop for a split second, “We’re demons. When are we ever good?”

Jongdae smiled.

“Sehun would say we’re better than we think,” Jongdae said.

“Sehun,” Luhan said thoughtfully, “He’s probably scared of me. I would be if I were him.”

“He’s an angel,” Jongdae said, “If he hasn’t forgiven you yet, he will. There’s enough time after all.”

“I still can’t believe I sent you out for a cage and never once did you think I must’ve wanted what was inside. Who was inside,” Luhan said.

“Well. You did say cage,” Jongdae said.

Luhan never once told Jongdae he needed an angel stolen from heaven, an angel with glimmering golden wings that dimmed in comparison to his smile. Never once did Luhan tell Jongdae that it was Sehun. It was Sehun.

“So we’re good?” Jongdae tried again.

“Yeah,” Luhan smiled, “We’ll find a way to get that collar off your neck.”

“We’ll find a way to get you off the throne,” Jongdae said, reaching out to touch Luhan’s shoulder and squeezed it.

This time, Luhan didn’t shrug him off.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Things could not be the same, but that was fine. It was not wise to resist time, so onwards they went. Onwards to hopefully better, brighter times. The collar was still around Jongdae’s neck, but he felt better than he had ever felt in years and years and years.

Maybe Jongdae expected too much, but things felt the same. And that was more than what he could’ve hoped for. But now there was such a considerable tension lifted from the space, a burden freed from their hearts. Hell no longer felt lonely and empty even though it should have. Jongdae spent more time with Yeri who begrudgingly tried to share him with Sehun. Sunmi, with no curtain to dust, no reminder of Jorge to hold onto, focused her attention on the others. Nowadays, she liked fretting over Sehun and styling his hair when he let her. Joy, like always, spent more time with her dead, but no longer hid under the excuse that they had asked for her.

Luhan kept Jae with him wherever he went, hoping that he’d be inspired and take over the throne anyways. Jae had stopped acting so afraid because the worst was already over. Now he seemed disinterested, blankly staring at every demon around him.

“This place reeks of death,” Jae would say at dinner.

“And heaven doesn’t?” Luhan said, taking a sip of wine, “What’s the difference between here and there? You and me? Nothing.”

“We have nothing alike,” Jae said, refusing to touch his food, “You failed to make me one of yours.”

“Who said I failed?” Luhan said, “If we are descendants of the angels, wouldn’t that make you one of us already? Or us one of you? It’s up to you. Would you rather say angels are more like demons, or demons are more like angels?”

“We are _nothing_ like you,” Jae said, raising his voice, “and you are nothing like us.”

“Please. You’re less kind than I thought an angel would be,” Luhan said, dismissing his words, “which makes you more kin than kind.”

Jae refused to say anymore and fell silent, turning away. The other demons congratulated Luhan on a new Lu every time they passed by, but no one asked where he had found this Lu. Some didn’t even notice.

And as for Sehun, there was no point in hiding anymore, so he finally freed his wings from the cloak and revealed them just as Luhan kept his in the open. Demons stared, but most didn’t say anything. If one of them brought up a concern to Luhan, whispering as they pointed at Sehun’s golden wings, he’d shrug it off.

“If I say he’s one of us, then he’s one of us,” Luhan said before frowning, “Do you want to be sent off to the punishment division? If you’re questioning him, then you’re questioning me, too. And are you really trying to question the ruler of hell?”

Other times, Luhan had no patience and pulled out his dagger and held it against their neck as he spoke, making his voice soft, but his words sharp.

“That’s my friend. My cousin. My brother-in-eternity,” Luhan said, “So if I hear you suggest that we should string him up and throw him into the fire one more time because he just happens to have golden wings, then I’ll kill you, wait for you to be reborn, and do it again. Watch yourself.”

The others were less kind.

Yeri would pull cards out of demons' stomachs, Joy would push them off balconies, and Sunmi would smash her glass of wine and stab the demon in the stomach without even batting an eye.

And Jongdae? Well, if Sehun were with him, no one would even look at Sehun. Jongdae had made it very clear that he would not tolerate anything done to Sehun with the flash of his eyes and one arm curled tightly around Sehun while the other arm rested on the hilt of his dagger. That would be the only warning he’d give.

But inside the room they shared, Jongdae softened, turned all smiles, less fangs just for Sehun. They’d sit by the window to stare outside at the moon or curl up together in bed. Jongdae could spend hours and hours gazing at Sehun. More recently he caught himself admiring Sehun’s soft lips more often than not.

Sehun seemed to know what Jongdae was thinking and let out a laugh before pressing a fond kiss to Jongdae’s forehead. Jongdae closed his eyes when he felt Sehun’s touch and sighed.

“Do you ever think,” Sehun began to say, “how you can make a thousand years feel like a second and make a second feel like a thousand years if you try hard enough. How long have we been here like this? An hour or a second?”

Jongdae thought for a moment and shifted upwards to look at Sehun.

“I want these moments,” Jongdae said, pointing at his collar, trying to resist the urge to tear it off, “that feel like a thousand years…to last a second.”

“And I want these moments,” Sehun said, gently touching Jongdae’s cheek before pressing another kiss to his forehead, “that feel like a second…to last a thousand years.”

Jongdae felt his breath taken away, and slowly, he reached his hand out, keeping it hovering just slightly above Sehun’s cheek. Sehun blinked, waiting, and as if it were like a dream, Jongdae finally touched Sehun’s face and leaned upwards to return the kiss on Sehun’s cheek.

Sehun smiled and sighed.

“I wasted so much eternity in that cage,” Sehun said, “I much rather would have spent it all with you.”

“I didn’t even exist yet,” Jongdae said with a laugh, shifting his hand so it clutched Sehun’s shoulder. They were lying on their sides, facing each other. Though Sehun tucked his wings behind his back, their light was still so bright.

“Then I would’ve waited my whole life not knowing what was ahead, not knowing who my heart chose until I met you,” Sehun said.

“What if you stayed in heaven,” Jongdae said, thinking of how it would’ve been. How it could’ve been. “You would’ve never had to endure so much.”

“But we would’ve never met,” Sehun said, “it’s funny how things work, isn’t it? I lost my life for thousands of years, and you gave me a new life when you opened that cage.”

And then he said it again, those words that had Jongdae’s heart bursting. In these moments, all Jongdae could do was smile and gaze at Sehun like the stars were in his eyes. There was Sehun’s black hair, endearingly ruffled. His cheeks, flushed a little rosy red. If only the moon could be that shade, right? His eyes, crinkled up like two crescent moons. Beautiful.

The seconds Jongdae wanted to count felt like the steady beat of Sehun’s pulse, and it was with another sigh that Jongdae found himself wanting to reach over to kiss Sehun’s lips. He wondered if they tasted like the red moon, or the fires above.

But for now, he was just content with staring, with letting the lull of his heart sing and beat out the rhythm of the words he could not say yet, the actions he could not do yet.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Eternity was eternity, so Jongdae was grateful that not even death could separate them because he wanted every moment like this. Together with Luhan, with Yeri, with Sunmi, with Joy. With Sehun.

Demons died, but this was not a time for death. Death was the last thing on everyone’s minds when they smiled this much until their cheeks hurt, laughed this much until they cried.    

Even if Jongdae still had that damned iron collar around his neck, he did not feel as strangled, as choked, as alone as before. He could wait out those five hundred years left if he had everyone by his side.

And besides. Now, there were other things on his mind.

Tonight, they were together in bed, Jongdae peeked out of his arms up at Sehun who was seated right next to him. Sehun had asked to see Jongdae’s tattoos again, and Jongdae had complied, taking off his shirt before laying down. Sehun traced the swirling marks with his fingers, admiring the art. Jongdae shivered, though not because it was cold, no. As he watched Sehun, he wanted more. This was natural for a demon. To always want more for themselves, want as much as they could have. And Jongdae wanted more as his gaze trailed from Sehun’s softly flushed cheeks to his pink lips. He could sit up anytime he wanted and k—

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, meeting Jongdae’s gaze. He was done tracing his tattoos, but his hand still lay there between his shoulder blades. “Do demons ever get more than one tattoo?”

“Sometimes,” Jongdae said, struggling to keep his eyes open. He could fall asleep like this, with Sehun touching him. “It’s rarer, but if demons want more than one for aesthetic purposes, then they’d ask the demon they’re firebound to burn another one into their skin. Others get more than one tattoo to remind themselves of their bond. But no one is firebound to more than two demons. The one that greets them first, and the one they greet.”

“Which makes you special,” Sehun said, "Since you have Luhan, Yeri, and me."

“You and Yeri, too,” Jongdae said, “You have each other, you know?”

“She showed me a card trick yesterday,” Sehun said, “I tried it, but I didn’t have the heart to pull a card out of someone’s chest.”

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, “You have too much heart for that.”

Sehun started stroking Jongdae’s back again, and Jongdae knew he would start wanting more right now, so he sat up.

“Can I see yours now, too?” Jongdae asked. Sehun nodded and tried pulling off his shirt, only for his wings to get stuck. Laughing, Jongdae helped him out and promised he’d make Luhan share some of his clothes since they were designed for his wings.

Sehun sat in front of him, his bare chest flawless except for the tattoo. There had been a scar, but if Sehun had never told him about it, Jongdae would have never known because the tattoo covered it up well.

“Did I do a good job?” Jongdae said, tracing the path of Sehun’s tattoo.

“Yes,” Sehun smiled, “I love it.”

Then he repeated a few words that made Jongdae stare for a second before plopping down next to him. His heart beat in his chest and he breathed slowly, content.

Sehun didn’t ask, but he reached his arm out, gently pulling Jongdae onto his lap. Jongdae sat, facing Sehun, and it could’ve been so easy. It really would be so easy to just lean in right now, and –

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, and Jongdae sighed after he heard the way Sehun called his name. That was all he said. Just his name, just once. But it was enough to have Jongdae reaching forwards to touch the sides of Sehun’s face as if he was holding fire in his hands. Gently, expecting to be burned, but refusing to let go.

Jongdae wrapped his arms around Sehun’s back, pressed himself together so they sat chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart, and hid his face in Sehun’s shoulder while his finger absentmindedly traced the back of Sehun’s tattoo. Within seconds, he felt Sehun wrap his arms around him again and hold him tightly. It really was these simple moments that made Jongdae so happy to exist. Jongdae thought he could die like this, with Sehun holding him in his arms. If he had to go one day for some reason, this would be how he wanted to spend his last moments.

But Jongdae didn’t want to die, didn’t even want to fall asleep, so he kept himself wide-awake as he realized something else.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, causing Sehun to murmur a tired, _yes?_

“It’s been long enough. Tomorrow let’s do it,” Jongdae said, “Destroy your cage.”

Sehun paused, closing his eyes for a moment before he nodded., tightening his grasp on Jongdae and guiding him down towards the bed.

“Okay,” Sehun said, “Okay.”

Jongdae knew that was a lot to think about, so he stayed silent, letting Sehun reflect on it more.

They fell asleep like this that night, limbs entangled, hearts beating slowly in sync. When morning came, they awoke, skipped breakfast to sleep more together. After a lunch with the others, it was time. Luhan had instantly given up the cage, saying he really had no use for it. He had considered keeping Jae in it if he wouldn’t cooperate, but he was Luhan. Ruler of hell. He could create any cage he wanted.

So later that day, the two of them had dragged the cage out to hell. Sehun had wanted somewhere private where he could scream just in case, so to the abyss they went. It didn’t take them very long to reach the familiar narrow path, but unlike last time, there was no need to go all the way to the cliff. Throwing it off the side would do just fine.

By the light of Sehun’s wings, they looked at the cage, its iron bars, and its curved top. Sehun made no move to destroy it and only reached out to grab one of the bars of the cage, rattling it back and forth uselessly.

“What’s freedom like?” Jongdae asked as he watched Sehun, “What was it like when you first stepped out of there?”

“It’s more underwhelming, really,” Sehun said, “It never happens quite like how you think it happens. And you never feel how you think you’d feel when you’re free.”

Jongdae stayed silent, but Sehun must’ve noticed the questions in his mind, the longing on his face.

“More often than not, I used to dream about angels breaking into hell, raining down from the heavens like bright stars to come get me,” Sehun said, “That’s freedom, I thought. I thought freedom was something you fight for, something other people who were supposed to love you fought for. I thought that when the door would open, I’d see angels happy to see me, ready to take me home.”

“But that didn’t happen,” Jongdae said.

“No. Not at all,” Sehun said, “Freedom, at least for me, is taking a deep breath and remembering how to fly after I spent so many years with my body scrunched up in that cage. It’s the privilege of loving when I had no one. It’s the time I have ahead of me to spend figuring out what I want to do with the years left.”

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” Jongdae said, and he had hope. He still had hope now and readily anticipated that day in the future when he would finally be free. Or sooner. Or sooner. But that thought was too hopeful, so he dropped it and said something else, something that came naturally to him.

“I wish I saved you sooner,” Jongdae said, “We would’ve had more time together.”

“It’s okay,” Sehun said, “Think of all the years we have ahead. Forever is a long time.”

“It’s too short,” Jongdae said, “If something even longer than eternity exists, I want to spend it with you.”

They offered each other smiles before it was time to do what they had come here for. Destroy the cage. Jongdae offered Sehun a hammer, some fire, anything he needed or wanted. Sehun took everything. He silently attacked, pounding the cage and swinging the hammer to dent its bars. Jongdae stood back to watch him do what he had wanted to do for so long. Sehun worked silently first, but as soon as he began bending and twisting the cage and breaking the metal, he began to yell. And when he took the fire Jongdae had brought and threw it in the cage, his shoulders began shaking. Jongdae placed a comforting hand on his back. He didn’t say anything, only offering him his silent comfort. There was nothing to be said anyways.

This was for all the years Sehun spent in the cage. This was for the angels who left him. This was for an eternity wasted. But this was for the eternity to come.

A sob finally broke free, and the cry echoed fleetingly before silence refrained, only the soft crackling of the fire in the cage sounding. With a frustrated scream, Sehun finally kicked the cage, sending it tumbling down into the abyss, the darkness swallowing the metal. The flames fought a useless battle, slowly smothered out by the darkness. Sehun peered over the edge of the abyss to watch the last glimpses of the cage before it disappeared forever. He stood there for a few seconds more before falling to his knees and lowering his face into his hands.

Jongdae pulled him back from the edge of the abyss and held him, stroked his back, and soothingly whispered to him. But those tears would not last. This was not a sad time, nothing even close to it, and Jongdae stayed until Sehun’s tears turned into laughter, a wild laughter as he realized he was, once again, free.

Standing up, Sehun wiped the last of his tears from his eyes and helped Jongdae to his feet. He bounced on his toes, looking around at hell as if this was the first time he had seen it.

“Darkness. Fire. The moon,” Sehun said, inhaling deeply as he looked around, “This is it. Where I’ll stay.”

Then with a delighted laugh, he spread out his wings, took flight, and shot up into the sky like a star returning to its rightful place, like a star coming home. Jongdae tilted his chin upwards to watch that golden light streak across the dark sky. Never once did he cover his eyes even though that brilliant light burned. Sehun continued to fly higher and higher until he might as well have been the only star in the sky.

No matter how hard Jongdae tried to press his lips together to stop the smile from spreading across his face, he failed. There was a devastatingly beautiful feeling coursing through his veins, lighting up his heart, and he felt like he was flying even if he was still stuck here, still chained to the ground. Because Sehun was free. Really, truly, and finally free. There were no chains left to speak of, no cage that existed to stuff him back in. Sehun was free, and one day Jongdae hoped to cast down his own collar into the abyss and join him.

Suddenly, the golden light began rapidly falling from the sky like a shooting star tumbling out of the clouds. But unlike the first time they met, Jongdae watched as Sehun’s wings smoothly supported him. Never once did he erratically flap his wings. Never once did he look like he was in danger of falling, which was all Jongdae wanted since Sehun had done enough falling for a lifetime.

Jongdae stood, rooted in place as the star streaked towards him, and when Sehun finally approached, he hovered right in front of him, his feet not quite touching the ground. He held out a hand to Jongdae who took it without hesitation. Sehun gently picked him up, placing an arm across his shoulders, an arm under his legs. And up they flew. Jongdae put his arms around Sehun’s neck and stared. There was the moon to look at, the fiery sky to admire, but Jongdae was too busy staring at how stunning Sehun looked, how beautiful his eyes were, how pink and flushed his lips seemed. With the wind tousling his air, Jongdae let out an ecstatic yell, the sound shortly followed by Sehun’s laughter.

Through the air Sehun flew him, and up they twirled around and around. The air seemed chilly here, but Jongdae thought he must’ve been dreaming because hell was never cold. Maybe one day when Luhan was brave enough, he’d defy time and freeze hell. But that wasn’t now. Jongdae dismissed the bite of the wind as unreal, a trick of his heart.

What he was feeling, and what he did know to be true was what his heart told him. His heart had chosen a long time ago, but Jongdae realized with a sudden jolt that he had not listened and not given in yet. He had spent too much time admiring, less time telling, less time acting. With these new realizations, Jongdae stared up at Sehun, lips slightly parting as if he was ready to say something. But say what? Tell him what?

Sehun focused on flying them safely through the sky, but really, with no winds to be mindful of, nothing at all to block their way, he deemed it safe enough to sneak a peek at Jongdae. And when Sehun noticed how Jongdae was staring, the corners of his lips curled up. Jongdae felt a lurch in his heart, a swooping, soaring sensation that he could not completely dismiss as only a result of the flying.

Because this was Sehun.

This was sweet, soft, Sehun. Angel of his heart. Love of his life. Forever for eternity. This was Sehun, and while Jongdae would have had all of time to speak, he spoke now. He wanted now, this moment, this present. He wanted his angel, so he acted now.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, sounding quieter than he had intended. He was worried his voice would be lost in the wind, but Sehun leaned in and seemed to hear.

“Yes, Jongdae?” Sehun said.

He was so close now, and Jongdae reached out to touch his face, stroke the skin of Sehun’s cheek with a thumb.

“Can I?” Jongdae said, leaning in a little closer, “Please?”

Sehun didn’t ask him what he meant because he took one look at the stars in Jongdae’s eyes and nodded. With his heart leaping in his chest, Jongdae leaned closer and kissed him, feeling the way Sehun smiled into their kiss, the way Sehun sighed into his skin. When they broke apart to breathe, Jongdae swore he tasted eternity.

Jongdae quickly leaned in to kiss Sehun’s cheek again for good measure, and never had his heart felt so full.

“Here’s to the next thousand years ahead,” Jongdae said with a smile.

“And the next,” Sehun said.

“And the next,” Jongdae echoed.

“Until the next,” Sehun said.

“Whenever time stops,” Jongdae promised.

“Whenever eternity ends,” Sehun promised.

So that was that. Doomed, damned, and dead would be anyone who dared to even lay a finger on Sehun as long as Jongdae was alive.

 

 

ϟ

 

                       

“Jorge was a dick and you know it,” Luhan drawled, examining his nails, “I can’t believe you had the misfortune of being firebound to him, Sunmi.”

“It’s not his fault. That’s just the way he was born,” Sunmi said. She huffed, but looked off into the other side off the room thoughtfully. “I should have stayed with him…maybe if I was better, then he would’ve never been tempted, would have never been sent to watch over punishment. Maybe he would’ve stayed here with us.”

“What and dampen the mood?” Luhan said, “No, I’m fine that he’s there. Jongdae did good choosing him. Weak. Greedy. Pathetic enough to even try stealing my throne.”

“I didn’t know anyone else who might be arrogant enough to want the throne,” Jongdae said, “Sor—”

He caught the look on Luhan’s face and dropped the apology before he could finish saying the syllables. The past was the past, but being firebound was forever, so Jongdae noticed the shadow that crossed Sunmi’s face as she stood up and tried to hide her expression as she pulled a comb out of her pocket and slowly combed Sehun’s hair. Recently, Sehun had finally agreed to let Sunmi pierce his ears, and she had spent the whole week collecting only the finest of studs and hoops for him to choose from. In the end, he chose two small silver hoops to wear on his left earlobe. Jongdae added two new hoops on his right earlobe for Sehun. Gold, like his wings.

“He wasn’t very kind anyways,” Joy said, making a face as she remembered him, “He always used to taunt the others for caring too much.”

What she really meant to say was that he always picked on her too much for visiting her dead so often, but it was okay. Everyone knew.

“Well, he’s gone, and there’s nothing else we can do about it,” Yeri said, “What’s done is done.”

“You sound like me,” Luhan nodded, “I’m pleased.”

Yeri wrinkled her nose.

“I’d rather be told that I’m more like Jongdae. He’s better than you,” Yeri said.

Luhan spluttered and sat up straight in his chair while the others erupted into laughter. Yeri couldn’t help herself and grinned at how bothered she had made Luhan.

“I’m a Lu,” Luhan complained, pressing a hand to his chest, “No one can be better than the Lus. We rule hell.”

“Is that really so much to be proud of,” Joy said, but she was smiling, amused. Her words had no hostility, her tone just casual because really. What was so special bout ruling a place like this?

They had been gathered to talk about the past one last time before refusing to ever mention it again. So, accompanied with laughter and tears, they traded stories. Joy told everyone that she couldn’t choose between the two sides so she fought for both at different times. Sure she leaked information to both armies, but it was for the better. Yeri wondered why she wasn’t punished for following Jongdae on his side. But she was his firebound, and would follow him no matter where he went, no matter who or what he fought for. Luhan said he understood now. Sunmi still lamented that she hadn’t followed her firebound demon to the other side. Luhan said it was fine since he was a dickhead.

Then they regressed back to further past events. How they were all baby demons running around setting the halls on fire, causing Luhan’s parents to tear out their hair and look after them. Luhan’s father would want to punish them, but Luhan’s mother would tell him to let demons be demons even as she continually extinguished some flames from the hall and repaired the broken chandelier on the floor. Sehun even offered stories of the beginning of hell, and before even that, heaven.

But it seemed that they had retreated too far into the past, or that the mention of the past had incurred a relic, an ancient remnant that no one could forget about, that everyone hated talking about. Who liked talking about him anyways?

“You’ve got a visitor,” a demon said by the door.

“Who?” Luhan asked.

“Him,” the demon said.

“I said… _who_?” Luhan said, swishing his drink around the glass.

“Do I have to say it?” the demon said, wrinkling his face up, “He’s about to reach the front doors.”

“ _Who_ ,” Luhan commanded.

The demon shrank behind the door before taking a deep breath.

“Lucifer,” he exhaled.

The next passing second felt like five thousand years.

Because in that very next second, the glass slipped out of Luhan’s loose grasp, gasps suddenly filled the room, and Jongdae had shot up out of his seat, his heart beating. In the next second, the glass shattered, the chair fell to the floor with a horrible thud, and the door slammed shut as the demon left.

There was only one thing on Jongdae’s mind, and it was _Sehun, Sehun, Sehun_. He turned to Sehun, forced himself to calm down because he needed to be the calm one when Sehun was like _this_. The mere mention of the name, of the promise of the presence had Sehun breathing in and out quickly, quickly, so quickly that Jongdae was sure he must’ve been light-headed now. Sehun’s gaze darted around the room, and he trembled. Trembled.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said with a shaky voice, sounding like he was in tears, “I can’t go back. I _can’t_ go back to that cage, back to that darkness, back to being alone.”

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, kneeling by Sehun, holding his hands, staring up at him to make sure he was fine even though he wasn’t, “Sehun, listen to me. You won’t go back to that cage. You already destroyed it, remember? You’re free, and I won’t let him take you back. Trust me.”

He squeezed Sehun’s hands, grasped them tightly, and tried to convey that of course he’d never let Lucifer take him again. Of course he’d never let Lucifer even touch him again. Of course he’d never let Sehun go. Not now, not ever.

“ _We_ won’t let him take you away, love,” Sunmi said, squeezing his shoulders.

“Where should he hide?” Joy said. She had stood up and pressed her hands to her face, beginning to pace around the room. “I can take you to the fields, but we’d have to get past the front gate.”

“There’s always a way out,” Yeri said, rummaging around the chest of drawers for something, “But just don’t get caught.”

“What if he knows?” Sehun asked, his bottom lip shaking, “What if he’s here for me?”

Luhan stood watching this whole scene with a grimace, with his fingers rubbing his temples. Jongdae knew that look. He knew what he was thinking. How much would he sacrifice for this. What was the plan. What would he do.

“Okay here’s what we’re doing,” Luhan said, clapping his hands together until everyone turned to look at him.

“First,” Luhan said, picking up the wine bottle and chugging it, “calm down.”

But his words had the opposite effect, as the room immediately burst into wails of how could they be calm when things were happening like _this._

“Oh my _God_ ,” Luhan yelled, “Listen. Lucifer’s at the door. That gives us about five minutes to act. Sunmi, Joy, you go ahead to distract him right now. Delay his arrival. Jongdae, take Sehun. Hide him somewhere temporarily. Yeri…do what you do best. Find a way out of this.”

Sunmi and Joy immediately rushed out of the room.

“Alright,” Luhan said, turning to Jongdae, “So—”

But the door opened again, and Sunmi rushed inside, slamming it shut behind her.

“Too late,” she cried out, her chest panting, “Lucifer’s in the hallway. He wants to see you.”

Jongdae pulled Sehun’s cloak securely around his shoulders before running around him to make sure that not a single glimmer of his wings could be seen. Satisfied for now, Jongdae threw the hood over Sehun’s head.

“Go first,” Luhan said, pushing them towards the door without giving himself any time to panic. “Go first. I’ll distract him a long as I can.”

Jongdae took Sehun’s hand and raced out of the door. Seconds later, he heard Luhan loudly greet Lucifer. Jongdae couldn’t help it but turned around and saw a shadow growing closer and closer before he dug his heels into the ground and ran faster. But no matter how many corners they turned, there were no rooms to hide in. After running for about thirty seconds more, they turned a corner and entered a long, straight hallway with a single room on the left. With Lucifer pressing behind, there was no place to hide except here. Jongdae thought it would be impossible to hide in a parlor room like this, but it was the only option, so Jongdae flung open the door.

“Hide,” Jongdae said, helping Sehun inside, “I’ll guard you from here.”

“But where?” Sehun frantically whispered, “Behind the curtains? There’s nowhere to hide.”

“I’ll give you as much time as you can,” Jongdae said, patting himself to make sure he had all ten of his knives still concealed on him, “Try your best to find somewhere Lucifer won’t find you.”

With that, he kissed Sehun’s forehead and shut the door behind him. He only had about three seconds to make himself look as casual and nonchalant as possible before Luhan turned the corner with his guest. For the first time, Jongdae met Lucifer face to face after hearing stories, nightmares about him.

Lucifer had a face that Jongdae couldn’t understand. He looked neither young nor old, neither beautiful nor ugly. That was just Jongdae’s opinion though. It was as if his face had been molded to perfection, as there were no blemishes or no asymmetrical features. But perfection like that was boring. Jongdae resisted the very strong urge to punch him.

“So this is the traitor,” Lucifer said with a smile, extending his hand, “Hello. It’s nice to meet someone who does me proud.”

Jongdae civilly took Lucifer’s hand and shook it. Lucifer gripped his hand firmly before he slithered his hand back. Jongdae was very careful with how he looked, how he talked, not wanting to give the slightest bit of hatred and worry away. He felt uneasy under Lucifer’s gaze and shifted uncomfortably. If most demons had glowing red eyes, Lucifer’s eyes were like an abyss. Black, with red pupils. Maybe he did it to be edgy, to stand out. But whatever it was, it unsettled Jongdae, not that he liked to admit.

“Why won’t you speak?” Lucifer said, and Jongdae opened his mouth, finding his throat dry. “Are you usually this shy? I expected more boldness from someone who betrayed his own friend.”

Luhan pressed his lips together, looking torn between opening his mouth to argue and rolling his eyes. Jongdae smiled, though it was not for Lucifer’s sake or his own.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jongdae said. He hoped his smile seemed genuine instead of the grimace or bared teeth he was so sure he offered.

“How’s that collar?” Lucifer asked, reaching out to try and pull it off. Jongdae clutched it and furrowed his eyebrows after Lucifer gave up with no success. “You must hate that you lost. I can’t imagine being tortured for that long, being punished for that long. But when do I ever have to? I’m Lucifer after all.”

Lucifer let out a laugh before sighing.

“Luhan, I like what you’ve done with the place,” Lucifer said, “But what’s this room? You haven’t shown me everything.”

“It’s an empty room,” Jongdae said, stepping in front of the doorknob, “Why won’t you take a look at the next parlor room?”

Luhan played along and tried to guide Lucifer away.

“Yes, there’s a fine collection of daggers in the armory if you want to take a look, Luhan said, “there’s one encrusted with—”

“Oh, but I want to know what’s in here,” Lucifer said, staying rooted in place, “You just saying no makes me all the more curious.”

“But there’s really…nothing,” Jongdae said.

“So what if it’s nothing? If it’s nothing, then open the door,” Lucifer said, pushing Jongdae out of the way. Jongdae prayed that Sehun had managed to find a safe place to hide and breathlessly watched with his heart pounding as Lucifer wrenched open the door. But if not, he was absolutely prepared to stab the original king of hell himself.

“Luhan, it’s too fucking dim in here,” he said, snapping his fingers to create a little firelight.

“I’ll add more light when hell freezes,” Luhan scoffed, though peeked over Lucifer’s shoulder, gaze darting over the velvet sofa, the embroidered curtains, the carved drawers, the large wooden box, the paintings.

Jongdae slowly let out a deep breath when not a single sign of Sehun was found.

“Funny,” Lucifer said, kicking the ground with a foot and tapping the sides of the walls with a hand, “I would’ve thought you were trying to hide something from me by the way you were acting.”

“It’s just a room,” Luhan said, “You’ve seen thousands of these. You have thousands of these. Why would we have anything to hide from you?”

Jongdae had to admire Luhan’s composure in a time like this because he was sure that he himself would not be able to completely repress the panic, the pounding of his heart. He felt like Lucifer could see everything, hear everything, know everything, so he just silently nodded and hoped he wasn’t being too obvious.

“I’ll show you every room if you really want to be bored,” Luhan shrugged, “Come. You’ll have to keep up if you want to make it in time for dinner.”

“Of course, of course,” Lucifer said, turning around and walking out of the room, “I expect you’ll bring out your finest wine.”

“Of course. We’re popping 1000 BC bottles tonight, none of that crusty 350 AD stuff,” Luhan said.

“Oh, I like you,” Lucifer said, slapping Luhan’s shoulders, “You truly understand…I can see some of my blood and hate in you already.”

Luhan couldn’t make a face, so Jongdae made a face for him, turning away to crinkle his nose. He could only imagine what long stream of swears Luhan was thinking of now.

“Jongdae, why don’t you go check on the cooks,” Luhan said, raising his eyebrows for a split second and only a split second. “They’re always late. We can’t have a late dinner when our finest guest is here.”

Lucifer preened and smiled at the mention of him being the finest guest. Flattery could only get someone so far, but flattery was getting Luhan pretty far with Lucifer. This is what Jongdae would expect from an angel who thought he was good enough, great enough to rule heaven. But look where he was now. What reason did he have to be this proud.

“I’ll make sure they use the finest tablecloths and dishes,” Jongdae nodded. He waited until Lucifer and Luhan disappeared down the hallway before he ripped open the door and reentered the room. He whispered Sehun’s name, tore up the curtains, looked behind every couch, every possible surface. There was only a large box in the room, the fireplace… He couldn’t have hidden in the chimney, right? The fires were still burning.

But when he heard a sniffle, then a muffled sob, that’s when his heart broke. Jongdae quickly snatched the lid off the box, and sure enough, there was Sehun squeezing his body tightly together to fit in the box, his hands pressed over his mouth to muffle his tears.

“Oh, Sehun,” Jongdae said, his chest starting to heave, his vision starting to blur, “I’m so sorry.”

After Jongdae helped Sehun out of the box, Sehun immediately launched himself at Jongdae, pressing his face into Jongdae’s chest. The force of Sehun’s sobs shook Jongdae’s body, and only half a second passed before Jongdae felt tears finally spilling onto his cheeks. Jongdae cried for the angel in his arms who deserved better than all of this, who deserved better than hell, who deserved so much more than he had been able to give him.

After a while, Sehun’s tears had ceased, and he fell asleep in Jongdae’s arms. Jongdae begged him to sleep as long as he could. In sleep he could forget what he had been through, what he would go through. In sleep, Sehun could dream of that faraway place where he could be free from everything. There really had to be someplace else, neither heaven nor hell, where Sehun could live like he wanted. There had to be.

“Don’t live like me,” Jongdae whispered, brushing Sehun’s bangs out of his face. He sighed and gazed at Sehun’s countenance, untroubled in his sleep, at peace for now. “Don’t live like this.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

All of them crowded in Luhan’s room for an emergency meeting because it was probably the last room Lucifer would want to see. Jongdae put a hood over Sehun’s head, told him to never look anywhere but the ground, and guided him through the castle carefully. The demons in Luhan’s castle weren’t bothered. They’d seen weirder things. But every time Jongdae crossed a corner, he was afraid that he’d see Lucifer on the other side, just waiting to snatch Sehun away.

After he reached Luhan’s room, he all but slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. Sehun sat down on the couches and removed his hood but kept his cloak on to cover his wings. Sunmi and Joy moved to sit next to him and fretted over him, asking if he was okay, if he was fine.

“What are we going to do about Sehun?” Jongdae asked immediately, pacing around the room, “What’s the plan?”

“We can’t give him up,” Sunmi said, looping her arm through Sehun’s tightly and patting his arm with her other hand, “He’s one of us now.”

“If Lucifer finds out—” Yeri said.

“He won’t,” Jongdae said. He could have burnt a hole through the rug from how fast and furiously he was pacing. “He can’t.”

“Can we send him home?” Joy asked, “He’d be safe there, right?”

“Heaven’s safer than hell right now for him,” Sunmi said, “The angels wouldn’t really kill him, right?”

“Isn’t heaven always safer?” Yeri said.

“Not for us,” Luhan scoffed.

“Not for me either,” Sehun finally spoke. His shoulders were hunched together, and Jongdae hated to see him look so small, so vulnerable. Sehun stared at the door as if Lucifer would rush in with a snarl at any moment. “But I don’t want to go back. Why would I want to go to somewhere with people that want me dead?”

“Lucifer isn’t as nice as me,” Luhan said, “I might have spared your life, but Lucifer won’t. Go somewhere else or die here.”

“Where else is there to go?” Jongdae asked, finally stopping in his tracks, “The fields? That’s no place to live.”

“I’ll hide him,” Yeri announced, “I can make things disappear and never be found unless I want them to be. I’ve learned a lot from my dead magicians, so I can conceal anything anywhere, even from a demon like Lucifer.”

“Okay,” Luhan nodded, “Hide him for a while, and when Lucifer leaves, we’ll decide what to do next.”

Jongdae sighed and nodded.

“You should go now then,” Jongdae said to Yeri, “before Lucifer wakes up from his nap.”

“Can’t you come with me?” Sehun pleaded. He stood up off the couch and strode across the room to grasp at Jongdae’s arm. “Please?”

“It’ll be suspicious if I’m suddenly gone,” Jongdae said touching Sehun’s cheek, “So go. Go without me. Come back when it’s safe.”

“But Jongdae, I—” Sehun said.

“Go,” Jongdae said, smiling as best as he could manage, “We’ll handle this, and then when it’s safe, come back to me.”

Before Sehun could protest any longer, Jongdae kissed him and sent him off with a smile.

“Keep him safe,” Jongdae said to Yeri.

“If we’re both firebound to you,” Yeri said, taking Sehun’s hand in hers, “Then I’m firebound to him, too. I’ll protect him just like I’d protect you. With all of my heart, with all of my life.”

“Don’t even tell me where you’re hiding him,” Jongdae said, “It’s safer if no one knows.”

Yeri nodded and turned back, guiding Sehun towards the door. Sehun kept peering over his shoulder, his wings to take one last look at Jongdae. Jongdae smiled and nodded reassuringly, but when Sehun disappeared out of his sight, he took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and led the way down the hallways to the dining room. Demons knew better than to approach him. Luhan knew better than to ask.

“All we have to do is entertain Lucifer for a little more, and he’ll be out,” Luhan said, nodding to the demon who welcomed him with a nod before pulling open the doors to the dining room.

“He can’t be here just to visit,” Jongdae whispered, “He can’t…He has to know.”

“If he doesn’t know, he _will_ if you keep talking and acting like this,” Luhan said.

Dinner was tense.

Yeri returned a little late and slipped into a seat beside Joy. After Jongdae saw her single nod, he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“I must confess, Luhan,” Lucifer said, examining the wine in his glass, “I’m here because I heard you have an angel. It just so happens that I’m missing one. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

Jongdae very calmly took a bite of his food and didn’t look at anyone, didn’t look at anything but the tip of his knife. A second of silence passed, but it was a second too long. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lucifer slowly turning his neck to look directly at Luhan.

“Well, you heard right,” Luhan quickly said, “but he’s not exactly an angel anymore.”

“Oh?” Lucifer said, “May I see?”

“Of course,” Luhan said, gesturing to a server to tell his guards to bring in the angel.

“What’s he like, this angel?” Lucifer said, leaning forwards in his chair, “Is he beautiful? Soft lips? Soft eyes? Soft heart?”

“Are you trying to accuse me of stealing your angel?” Luhan laughed, “Please. I have better things to do. And if I’m trying to retire, then why steal? I’m better than that.”

“You can’t,” Lucifer said, “You’re the last Lu.”

“Well, here’s Luigi, once an angel, now a demon,” Luhan said, gesturing in front of him. Lucifer turned to see two guards dragging in Jae who struggled futilely.

“What’s up,” Luhan said, “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

Jongdae watched Lucifer’s expression carefully, noticing a flicker of a shadow that crossed his face before disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Lucifer relaxed and began eating again.

“This is your angel?” Lucifer said, and as he took a long look at Jae, he threw his head back and laughed. His cheeks grew flushed, and he smacked the table again and again and again.

“What’s so funny,” Luhan said, hiding his glower behind his glass.

They had to wait at least three minutes for Lucifer to calm himself down. He wiped his eyes, but there were no tears, and he sighed.

“Oh, Luhan,” Lucifer said, “is this your sorry attempt at recreating what I did all those years ago? I’m flattered you look up to me this much, but this…this is no demon. You’ve failed.”

“Enough,” Luhan snapped, “I don’t know what went wrong. I did everything you did. I hated, I stabbed him in the heart, and transferred my hate to his.”

“Luhan, you do not hate enough,” Lucifer said, pointing at Luhan with his knife before he turned to saw at his steak, “that is your problem. One look and I know. Demons born under the rule of a Lu will tend to resemble their temperament. Mine are the cruelest because…just look at me. But you? Soft. Everyone’s too soft. Where’s the killing? The cruelty?”

“I told them to behave since you were here,” Luhan lied. But every night was always like this. Sure, they all misbehaved once and a while, but like Luhan, they liked drinking. Like Luhan, they liked fine arts, dancing until it was too early to keep going.

But Jongdae was born under Luhan’s father’s rule. All his closest friends were. What did that say about them? What did that say about Luhan’s father? They were only remnants living in Luhan’s time.

“Who’s this?” Jae asked, poking at his food. He took a bite and cautiously stared at Lucifer. “A friend? You usually have terrible taste in people you keep around. Just look at Jongdae. At least S—”

“This is Lucifer,” Jongdae abruptly said, “You know him, right?”

Jae’s eyes bulged as he took one look at Lucifer who surveyed him curiously and dropped his fork with a clang before he screamed and thrashed about, knocking plates and glasses over.

“Horrible,” Luhan shook his head, snapping at his guards to take Jae away, “Absolutely horrible. Look at that…we were having such a nice conversation and you had to spoil it. How will you take over the throne at this rate? It’s only Lucifer.”

“What do you mean only?” Lucifer said, “It’s natural for him to feel this way. I am me, after all. My reputation precedes me. It’s such a pity I spent such a short time on the throne.”

“You miss it?” Luhan said, trying to keep the tone of his voice level, as if he was disinterested and just making conversation. Jongdae saw the look in his eyes and knew better. “Then have the throne back…if you want.”

Lucifer laughed, tousling Luhan’s hair. Luhan struggled to keep his face from scrunching up. Jongdae could almost hear the scream in Luhan’s head, the _you better have washed your fucking hands._

“You wish, kid,” Lucifer said, “I had my chance, did my duty on the throne, wreaked all the havoc I wanted. It’s your time now.”

“Then help me change this angel back,” Luhan said, “Help me turn him into a proper Lu so I can be done.”

There was no _please_ that ever came out of Luhan’s mouth, but from the way he looked at Lucifer, he might as well have begged. Luhan didn’t like to beg, but this was the closest he would get. It was incredible, the things that would be done for the price of freedom, for the hope of freedom.

“This is something you’ll have to do for yourself. Hate until it hurts. Hate until it’s the only thing in your heart,” Lucifer shrugged.

“I already do,” Luhan said, slamming a fist on his table.

“Okay, then kill Sunmi,” Lucifer nonchalantly said, pointing his knife at her

“What?” Luhan said, a little softer.

“If you hate like me, then you won’t hesitate to hurt anyone you want. So go on. Show me how you hate,” Lucifer said. Sunmi calmly watched, leaning back in her chair as she observed.

“Please,” Luhan scoffed, crossing his arms together, “What would that do? I’d be down a demon, and that wouldn’t free me. There’s no point.”

Sunmi hid her smile behind her napkin. There was no danger because Luhan couldn’t. He could kill anyone else, but not these demons. Not who he had lived with his whole life. To kill them would be to burn his own heart.

“You’re w—” Lucifer said, but before he could finish his thought, Luhan cut him off.

“I’m _tired_ ,” Luhan said, struggling to keep his voice at a normal volume, “I’m tired of this job, and it’s time for someone else to take this throne from me. They can do whatever they want with it.”

“Can’t do that until Jae’s a proper Lu,” Lucifer said, “I bet if you killed someone you love, that’d make you have enough hate.”

“That’d just make me hate you,” Luhan said, “For even suggesting that.”

“Then hate me,” Lucifer said, “Most people do.”

Lucifer lowered his gaze to his plate and cut at his steak, pressing too hard that blood gushed out and sawing too hard that he could’ve broke the plate in two. Jongdae watched as Luhan’s lip curled up, but he looked away, shaking his head.

“What even is the difference between, let’s say…you and Jae?” Joy suddenly asked. Lucifer looked up, quickly directing his attention to her. He had been prepared with a pointed comment, but when he saw her smile he only furrowed his eyebrows and leaned back in his chair. Joy could get away with anything, really. She had a way with words, a way with getting what she wanted, getting what she wanted everyone to feel. No one could be mad at Joy.

“He’s an angel, and—” Lucifer said with a huff before Joy cut him off with a pleasant laugh. It was the type of laugh meant to flatter whoever she was talking with and validate them. Lucifer said nothing funny, but he still relaxed, smiling back at her. If only he knew it was her fakest laugh, her fakest smile.

“But you’re an angel, too,” Joy said, “You have the same wings, but yours are black, and his are white. What’s the difference?”

“The difference,” Lucifer answered, his eyes flashing, “is that I know we deserved better, deserved more than what heaven gave us, and I saw right through the humans and thought heaven was too kind for some of them. They’re all sinners at heart.”

“So you gave us hell,” Joy said, her lips stretching. No one dared to say anything at all. Jongdae stole a glance and exchanged a look with Yeri but nothing more. Their silence said enough. “Thank you for the darkness, thank you for the fire. I would thank you for more, but there’s nothing much else.”

Lucifer paused, clenching his knife in his hand as if he was deciding if Joy was flattering him or making fun of him. His eyes grew redder and redder, his wings straightened out to their full width, and Jongdae did not want to lose a friend to the fire tonight, so he quickly cut in.

“Anyways, how long will you be staying?” Jongdae asked, trying to break the tension. Lucifer stared at Joy’s serene expression one last time before turning his attention back to his food and answered.

“Oh, you know,” Lucifer said, “I came to find my angel. That pitiful excuse of neither angel nor demon is not mine, so I’ll be leaving after dinner. You have good cooks, Luhan. I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you,” Luhan said.

Jongdae found it easier to breathe and let himself slightly relax.

“Just one more thing…” Lucifer said after he finished the last bite of his meal, “I want to see my portrait one last time. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it. You showed me all your rooms, but I should’ve asked to start with my face, my painting.”

“Sure,” Luhan said, throwing his napkin onto the table, “I’ll take you there myself.”

Jongdae stood up and trailed behind the two Lus, listening, watching carefully as Lucifer remarked to Luhan how he changed his mind and hated his sense of décor. How he hated what Luhan did with the place. Jongdae didn’t care. All this time, he was thinking that he could finally plan for Sehun to come back to him.

“Me,” Lucifer said, standing in front of his portrait, nodding as he stared at his own self. “Oh how I love myself. I was beautiful back then. Even more beautiful now. Time is kind to me, but I can’t say the same for the other Lus.”

“We’re not supposed to be touched by time,” Luhan said, shifting in his place “We’re immortal.”

“Oh, but you can choose to age if you want,” Lucifer said, “Some of us really let ourselves go…it’s very pitiful. Looking good is too hard for them?”

“Maybe they’re tired,” Luhan said, shifting in his place, “Who even likes this job anyways?”

“A small price to pay for power,” Lucifer said, still admiring himself, “Everything is worth it when hell is yours for a while. I don’t know why you don’t want it.”

“Anyways,” Luhan said a little louder, “are you done? Surely you have paintings of yourself at home.”

“And sculptures too,” Lucifer nodded, “But this was my first one, so give me a minute.”

They waited ten minutes until Lucifer finally continued strolling down the hallway, remarking at all the Lus he saw.

“Lucille is fun,” Lucifer said, “Lucille II, not so much…She couldn’t possibly think of her own original name?”

“We’re infinite, but names are not,” Luhan said.

“Whatever you say,” Lucifer shrugged, “But if there was anyone who ever tried to call themselves Lucifer, I’d kill them. The audacity!”

“Of course,” Luhan said, trying to elicit the most emotion he could feel. But he couldn’t help if he still seemed bored. This reminded Jongdae of the times when Luhan was younger and tiredly agreed to everything his tutors would say to him.

“Where’s yours?” Lucifer said after they passed by DVB and several other Lus, “This hallway is so long.”

Jongdae froze. Luhan seemed to remember the same thing and curled his fingers into a fist. They had forgotten everything but the painting.

“I think it’s being repainted,” Luhan hastily said, “A foolish demon slashed through it with a knife.”

“Oh?” Lucifer said, “Terrible. I would’ve killed him for that.”

“Right?” Luhan said, turning around, “So let’s go. There’s nothing else to see.”

“I want to see your father’s then,” Lucifer said, “surely his isn’t damaged like yours? That would be a coincidence.”

He walked slowly, measuring every step, measuring every reaction Luhan’s countenance showed. It was lucky he didn’t bother to pay attention to Jongdae because Jongdae was struggling to stay calm, struggling to be fine.

“Ah, yes. Your father was a fine demon. A good Lu,” Lucifer said, “Putting one of his own in chains for a thousand years? A pity for Jongdae, but such a power move on his part. That’s how you retire…go out in style by winning a war and hurting someone to the point where they’ll have no hope.”

“And what’s this? I thought you said it was being repaired?” Lucifer said with a laugh, pointing next to Luhan’s father’s portrait.

Jongdae resisted the urge to snatch the painting right then and there and focused on pretending that everything was normal. Everything was where it should be. Everything was how it should be.

“They must’ve just placed it back right now,” Luhan said, quickly improvising, “How funny. Let’s go, shall we? I don’t like people staring too hard at this painting. The painter made me look ugly, so less people should see it.”

But Lucifer didn’t respond, just continued to stare at the painting.

Jongdae looked straight at Lucifer with the blankest expression he could manage, but there were alarms and sirens going off in his head. _Fuck_.

“Oh,” Lucifer said, tilting his head after a while, “Oh that’s really funny.”

Luhan shoved his hands in his pockets to hide how hard he was clenching his fists.

“What’s that?” Luhan said.

“Do you paint everything yourself?” Lucifer asked, “Most of them just hire portrait artists, but I hear that you’re a painter. Was this you? Did you choose to paint all these people in your portrait? Why?”

“They’re more important to me than power,” Luhan said. If Jongdae had the capacity to feel anything other than panic right now, he would have been touched.

“It’s weak,” Lucifer said, “What will you have to show when they all leave you? Power isn’t forever, but glory still stands. You won’t be remembered for your ferociousness, the fight in you at this rate.”

“Who says I wanted to be remembered like that? And besides. They won’t leave me,” Luhan said, “We’ve been through far more than what most have gone through. If we survived the past, then we’ll never leave each other now.”

“I hope for your sake that everyone leaves, so you will become acquainted with the pain of loneliness,” Lucifer said before he pointed to the left side of the portrait, “I recognize this one. Sunmi. Firebound to that one demon who led the revolt against you. Is that what you’re doing? Keeping your enemies close?”

“No,” Luhan said. It seemed all the pressure finally crashed down upon him, and his voice slightly cracked. “That’s my friend.”

“And this one,” Lucifer said, pointing below Sunmi. If he noticed the tremble in Luhan’s voice, he didn’t say anything. “Joy. She didn’t know which side to pick, so she fought for both. Betrayed both.”

“Do you want some dessert?” Luhan said, trying not to seem like he had choked the words out.

“Yeri,” Lucifer continued onwards as if he hadn’t heard Luhan, “Firebound to Jongdae. A tricky one, this demon.”

Jongdae clenched his hands, and he begged, pleaded that this wouldn’t end like how he felt it would.

“We’ve asked the cooks to prepare the finest desserts,” Jongdae said, struggling to keep calm, “and—”

“Ah, Jongdae!” Lucifer said, clapping his hands together, “Who could forget you? You betrayed your own to support someone else’s rise to the throne. That’s so terrible…You make me proud.”

Jongdae flinched, and Luhan, having seemingly noticed his discomfort, discreetly reached out to squeeze Jongdae’s hand before speaking.

“It’s just a painting, Luhan said, “There’s no need to be preoccupied with it. We’ll be heading to the dining hall now for some dessert, so either take your leave or join us.”

Lucifer kept staring at the painting. Slowly, he pressed a finger over his lips as he stared. He only waited a few seconds before speaking again, but those few seconds felt like thousands of years.

“But this last one. Why is he here, Luhan?” Lucifer said finally turning towards them, a hint of fire searing across his face. His lips had started twitching, pulling down into a scowl.

“Why is Sehun here?”


	5. Chapter 5

Jongdae’s heart stopped. He could not say anything, do anything except continue to. Panic. Luhan managed to compose himself first and smiled.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Luhan said, “Who do you see?”

“Sehun,” Lucifer said, the name striking Jongdae’s heart, sparking it back to life as it thumped terribly in his chest. “Why is Sehun here?”

“Who?” Luhan asked. It was incredible, how he had not completely cracked yet. Jongdae would have already abandoned words and pulled out his daggers if he wasn’t busy reminding himself that Sehun was fine, that Sehun was safe, that Sehun was hidden, that—

“Why do you have my angel?” Lucifer asked, flapping his wings to hover in the air, reaching up to press a finger into the canvas. “You already have one. For what reason do you need mine?”

“How is that an angel?” Luhan asked, gesturing up at the painting, “and hands off. That took me a few days to paint.”

“So it’s new,” Lucifer said, “A new painting, a new face.”

Luhan bit his lip, realizing the lies he had to maneuver around.

“I don’t know why you’re so worried about a painting. I was missing a face, so I made up one,” Luhan said. He used to lie about small things when he was younger. No, he most definitely did not stab that other demon because he said something mean to Jongdae. No, he didn’t steal an axe from another demon. No, he wasn’t the one who accidentally smashed the chandelier. His mother always knew all his lies, chiding him gently, but his father would wearily sigh and tell him to at least lie convincingly. Luhan was skilled in lying after years of practice, but when he was lying about this, lying about Sehun, there was no way Lucifer could be convinced.

“You made up a face,” Lucifer said, “really. That’s your excuse?”

“What? We can create hell, mold it to our liking, but you’re doubting my artistic abilities?” Luhan laughed, but it sounded forced.

“I’m doubting your truth,” Lucifer said, landing lightly on his feet, “Because when I said I was missing an angel, I didn’t mean Jae, that fake half-turned, poorly-executed excuse for a demon. I meant Sehun. I’m looking for Sehun because someone stole him out from my own home, and it seems like that someone lives in your castle.”

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” Luhan said. He kept his expression blank, but Jongdae could see the cracks beginning to form in his façade as his lips pressed together. “Everyone’s accounted for. No one stole anything. This is a big accusation, and if you think I’m just going to stand here and—”

“Joy,” Lucifer said, snapping his fingers, “she’s always gone, always in the fields isn’t she? She could’ve easily snuck into my place and stole Sehun.”

“Listen,” Luhan sighed, putting his hands on his hips, “I don’t know what delusions you’re thinking of, but Joy only goes because her dead need her. And how would she know which cage to look for?”

But Luhan could only hold off Lucifer for so long, could only tell so many lies before he slipped, and he realized his mistake as soon as he said it. His expression didn’t change much, but the little wrinkle in his attempted truth betrayed him. 

“I never said anything about a cage,” Lucifer smiled dangerously, rubbing his hands slowly together, “So he is here. Hell is for sinners, so I’ll excuse your stealing, but I’m here to reclaim back what is mine. Give me back Sehun. Give me back my angel.”

There were many things Jongdae wanted to say in that moment. Simple things like…Sehun wasn’t Lucifer’s, Sehun wasn’t anyone’s at all, so fuck you Lucifer. Go fuck off back to your chateau villa where you spend your days wasting away in poorly decorated rooms. Also perhaps the simplest thing of all, _fuck_ _fuck fuck fuck fu—_

“Look all you want,” Luhan said, spreading his arms, “but you won’t find what you want. I’ve grown tired of your company, so do leave soon.”

Lucifer threw his head and laughed.

“It’s too dim here,” he said, snapping his fingers to make a flame appear next to his head. The light illuminated the shadows on his face in the worst way. His skin was smooth, untouched by time, but the cruelty etched into his expression was always the same.

“I said I wouldn’t leave until I have what I was looking for. Until I have what is mine,” Lucifer said.

“Suit yourself,” Luhan shrugged, “You won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

“Oh, I will,” Lucifer said, reaching up to pat the bottom of the painting’s gilded frame with a hand, “I will.”

With that, he sent a last lingering look to Luhan and Jongdae before he strode down the hallway, scraping his fingernails along the walls, flouting his big, black wings.

As soon as he was out of sight and out of earshot, Luhan finally collapsed against the wall, hands covering half his face. He peeked up at Jongdae with wild eyes, stumbling on his words.

“I’m so…” Luhan said, “Jongdae, I’m _so_ —”

“Save it,” Jongdae said at last, “There are no sorries in hell, and you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Yeri hid him, right?” Luhan whispered, looking around to make sure no one was here to listen, “And there’s no way he can find Sehun?”

“I don’t even know where she hid him,” Jongdae said, his hands still shaking even though Lucifer had left, “We just have to convince him to leave. He’ll grow…bored and go soon.”

“We have all of time, Jongdae,” Luhan said, “Soon could be thousands of years.”

Jongdae could not wait a thousand years without Sehun, so he swore he’d force Lucifer to leave, one way or another.

“So let’s make a plan,” Jongdae said.

But this time, they did not even have a chance to make a plan because Lucifer did not wait a single moment before he started looking. It seemed he had summoned the demons from his home to come here to look for Sehun.

“I will grant anyone who brings me that angel any wish, any prize, anything they desire,” Lucifer said to his demons. He had brought them into the dining hall to take advantage of Luhan’s hospitality, forcing Luhan to begrudgingly ask his cooks to prepare more food for all these wicked demons. But of course he served them mediocre wine because he saved the best for himself and these were not guests worthy of the best.

“Unharmed or harmed?” one of his own asked.

“Unharmed,” Lucifer said.

Jongdae knew that would only be temporary. He couldn’t do anything because demons always trailed after him to spy on him, Luhan, and everyone else. When they all gathered, they could only talk about civil things, mundane things that would not give any of them away. Jongdae suffered in Sehun’s absence, but no matter what, he would not even say Sehun’s name out loud, would not even consider asking Yeri where she had hidden him.

And it seemed that the demons living in Luhan’s castle either had truly no idea what Lucifer was talking about, they did not care enough to answer, or they cared enough for Luhan that they refused to answer truthfully.

“Have you seen an angel here?”

“Why the fuck would I see an angel here? It’s hell.”

“Have you seen an angel here?”

“Yeah. Jae. But he’s more of…kind of one of us now?”

“Have you seen an angel here?”

“Oh, yeah…Did you fall from heaven, because I’m looking at one right now.”

Lucifer had to switch tactics. With every moment that passed by without results, he grew angrier and angrier, and soon, he resorted to violent measures.

“Give me the angel, or I’ll kill one of your demons,” Lucifer bellowed, waving a dagger in Luhan’s face.

“You’ll really kill for this?” Luhan said, unbothered, “Don’t you have anything better to do?”

Luhan hoped that with time, they’d be able to wait Lucifer out. That became the default plan, the plan that no one spoke of, but everyone agreed to. Wait until Lucifer’s rage passed and he’d leave. Wait until Lucifer calmed down and they could perhaps diplomatically talk. Wait. Waste time. Sit through time. Let time pass as calmly as they could.

But Lucifer ripped through time just as he ripped through the curtains, the doors, the hallways, searching for any sign of Sehun. Yeri had hidden him well at least. The previous card tricks she used to show everyone at dinner had nothing on this, her greatest disappearing act. Jongdae could almost relax, content that at least Sehun didn’t have to see any of this, didn’t have to hear any of this.

Almost.

But almost.

“You have until midnight, or I start swinging,” Lucifer said, stalking around, his heavy footsteps echoing in the dining room.

Luhan sipped his wine quietly in response and did nothing.

Midnight came and passed, so Lucifer stabbed one of Luhan’s demons straight through the heart and twisted the blade until they dissolved into ash. Luhan watched impassively.

“Tomorrow. Bring me the angel, or I start killing more,” Lucifer spat, smearing the blood that splattered on his face as he wiped the back of his hand across his cheek.

But tomorrow came and went, and Luhan was left sitting next to another pool of blood after Lucifer furiously murdered another one of his demons. He never said anything, but only snapped his fingers to create a breeze of wind to scatter the ashes of his fallen.

“How many more must go, Luhan?” Lucifer said, pointing his dagger at Luhan’s throat.

Luhan looked at him blankly while demons around him begged him to give up whatever angel Lucifer wanted. It was cruel, but Luhan only cared for a select few. And those he didn’t care about, he let burn.

“We’ll see them again,” Luhan said, “Death isn’t forever for demons like us. They’ll be reborn out of the ashes again. Just wait.”

“Then you don’t mind if I kill another?” Lucifer said, and without warning, he grabbed the nearest demon and stabbed them before anyone could blink. He dropped the demon, snarling as he watched the body fall to the floor and dissolve into ash. Luhan, with another flick of a hand, sent a strong gale to scatter the ashes somewhere else, somewhere far from here.

Lucifer laughed, gripping his dagger tightly and waving it at Luhan as he stalked forwards. Luhan calmly looked at him, daring him to come closer, daring him to do something else.

“You’re tougher than I thought,” Lucifer said, “I thought having only half of my hate in your blood would make you weak…that the blood of your mother, nothing more than a regular demon, would dilute my hate and make you a caring fool.”

“My mother was always stronger than my father,” Luhan huffed, drumming his fingers on the edge of his chair.

“Where are both of them now?” Lucifer said, “Where did your parents go?”

Jongdae shifted, ready to attack if needed. Who cared if this was the original demon of hell? His place was by Luhan’s side. He’d fight for him, kill for him, do anything for him. Even if Luhan never asked him to.

Luhan sighed and rubbed his face in his hands. Jongdae knew it was taking a lot from Luhan to not snap completely at Lucifer.

“If you’re trying to get under my skin, tough luck, Cifer. I don’t have abandonment issues because my parents didn’t abandon me. I’ll see them again when I retire,” Luhan crossed his arms, “They’re off in their own villa. They visit from time to time.”

“No, this doesn’t bother you,” Lucifer said, trying a different angle, “because you don’t care.”

“Demons don’t care,” Luhan flatly said. Jongdae who saw the way Luhan clenched his jaw knew better. If Luhan didn’t care, then he wouldn’t worry. If Luhan didn’t care, then he wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to hide Sehun. This…all of this wasn’t for Sehun’s sake. Jongdae knew that. But from the way Luhan occasionally glanced beside him to make sure Jongdae was still there, Jongdae knew for whose sake this was.

“But you do,” Lucifer said, his eyes burning red, “You care about the demons here. It’s written on your portrait. You’re practically parading them on your heart. Come _on_. At least try to be more subtle.”

“You can’t relate,” Luhan taunted, his lips lifting up. They tore each other apart with the simplest of words, stabbing with careful phrases, wounding and jabbing with sentences. “You transformed thousands and thousands of angels to look like you, and yet…here you are. Here you stand. Unlikable. Unloved. Alone.”

A harsh blow.

But it was true.

Lucifer had created his demons so he wouldn’t be alone. Because why else? What was the point of creation besides this? Lucifer created to not only celebrate his power, but also to give himself other people to celebrate with. Eternity was lonely, and there was no point in spending it alone.

But who actually liked Lucifer. Who loved Lucifer except his own self? With time, his followers had left him. Revolution was a thing of the past, they said. There was nothing more to do after heaven refused to let them back in, they said. It was time to move on, they said. Here. In hell. Lucifer had promised them better things, so why were they in a place like this?

Lucifer seemed to have thought of the same in this moment, and his expression broke, wrinkles splitting his face apart, creating abysses and caverns of pure malice. Across from him, Luhan seemed remarkably and astoundingly calm for someone who was badmouthing and spitting fire back at Lucifer himself who had created sin and doomed humanity. With the way Luhan reclined in his chair, one leg crossed over the other, he looked as if he was considering when would be an appropriate time to refill his wine glass, like always, like—

But suddenly Jongdae saw something blur across the room, felt someone grab him, and an arm wrap around his neck before pulling upwards. He gasped as he felt his feet leave the ground and choked as the arm tightened around his neck.

“I’ll tear your heart out if you don’t give me back my angel,” Lucifer snarled inches from Jongdae’s ear. The harsh sound caused Jongdae to shiver despite himself. Lucifer squeezed Jongdae’s throat harder, and Jongdae could only futilely claw at Lucifer’s arm, gasping for air.

“Lucifer, _enough_ ,” Luhan yelled, standing up so quickly he knocked his chair back, sending a thud echoing into the hall. “Put Jongdae down. We’ll discuss this civilly. You’ve hurt enough of my demons. Let. Jongdae. Go.”

“I’ll start with Jongdae, and I won’t stop until you’re alone,” Lucifer bellowed, beating his wings to stay in the air, “And if you think I’ll make it painless, then think again. I’ll burn them, beat them, stab them, but hurt them only just enough to keep them alive to feel all that pain before I end them all right before your eyes. So what’s it going to be, Luhan? An angel, or your heart?”

Luhan’s youth finally caught up with him, and from down there, Jongdae thought Luhan looked like he had first looked when his father explained to him that he would have to inherit this without a choice. Such was the reason for his existence. Rule Hell. Rule the dead. Rule time.

“I’ll do it right now, Luhan,” Lucifer loudly warned. Jongdae only saw a flash of silver, braced himself for impact, for pain, before Luhan yelled out with equal fury and unparalleled desperation.

“ _Stop_ ,” Luhan said, raising his hands out to show he meant no harm. For now at least. It was a miracle his voice hadn’t cracked yet from the volume and from the sentiment. “Let’s talk about this, Lucifer.”

“I’m listening,” Lucifer said, moving the knife to Jongdae’s throat. Jongdae tilted his head up to avoid the blade only to find himself strangled even tighter by Lucifer’s arm. They were bobbing up and down in the air now, but this didn’t feel like flying. This was suspension. Fear.

At least Sehun was safe.

That single thought put Jongdae at peace.

“You’re saying that if I give you the angel, you’ll let Jongdae go, and you’ll leave,” Luhan said.

“Of course. Yes,” Lucifer said, a little gentler now, “Give me back what is rightfully mine. You know it’s the right choice. We’re demons, but we’re not heartless. It’s only right that you protect Jongdae. Your right hand, your firebound, your brother.”

His voice was silky, low toned, and smooth now. Lucifer was always good at tempting.

“No,” Jongdae said, struggling against Lucifer, hating the way Luhan’s expression relaxed as if he actually considered Lucifer’s words, “ _No,_ Luhan, you _can’t_.”

He kicked, squirmed as hard as he could, but it did nothing. Lucifer only held him tighter, choked him harder, pressed the tip of the blade against his neck deeper. The struggle cut a little wound into Jongdae’s neck.

As Jongdae peered down at Luhan in horror, a hailstorm of _no, no, no, please, no_ falling from his mouth, he could practically hear Luhan think. _If I give up Sehun, then Jongdae will hate me. If I don’t, then Jongdae will die. The others will die._ There really was no good option, but Jongdae’s priority was Sehun. Demons could handle themselves. Sehun was an angel too soft to kill, too bright to be extinguished.

Luhan never got a chance to choose because out of seemingly nowhere, Sehun dropped out of the sky, sending the chandelier crashing down, smashing into thousands and thousands of crystal fragments. Perhaps Yeri had hidden him somewhere in the ceiling all this time.

Jongdae blinked, his mouth opening instantly as he saw. Who he wanted to see most, but who he didn’t want to see at all. Not in this moment. Never in front of Lucifer.

“ _No_ ,” Jongdae shouted, watching Sehun pick himself up from the floor, dusting the glass shards off of his clothes, his hair ruffled from his tumble. He seemed in control at the moment, but when he looked up to find Lucifer choking Jongdae and pressing his knife at his throat, his hands flew to cover his mouth. And he. Froze.

“ _Oh_ ,” Lucifer smiled and released Jongdae, sending him dropping out of the sky. Jongdae landed hard on his side but immediately pulled himself to his feet despite the ache in his body before running towards Sehun.

“You can’t hurt anyone anymore…You can’t hurt Jongdae,” Sehun said as loudly as he could, which wasn’t very loud, but still louder than what could be expected from him in this situation. “Not because of me. I won’t allow it.”

In this midst of this, Jongdae quietly asked why he had left when they had hidden him so safely. He checked Sehun for any sign of injury but he knew, with a deep pang, that the deepest wound was in Sehun’s heart. The scar on his shoulder cut deeper than anyone could see. In the meantime, Lucifer landed nimbly on his feet and walked towards them, a twisted smile snaking its way across his face. It was second nature for Jongdae to leap in front of Sehun, one hand keeping Sehun back behind him, the other tightly gripping a dagger.

“Oh, look who it is,” Lucifer said, letting out a low chuckle. With every step he took towards them, Jongdae felt Sehun grip his shoulder harder and harder. Jongdae expected to hear quick breathing or even strangled gasps of air. But there was nothing. Maybe Sehun wasn’t even breathing anymore, too choked by the appearance of his worst nightmare, worst memory.

“It’s been a while, Sehun,” Lucifer sickeningly crooned, “I missed you.”

“Get fucked,” Jongdae said.

“Be polite, Jongdae,” Lucifer said, not even glancing at him, “I’m trying to talk to an old friend.”

“We’re not friends,” Sehun said, sounding like he was still holding his breath, “If you missed me, you would’ve visited instead of leaving me for eternity, trapping me for all of time.”

“You’re just as beautiful as I remember,” Lucifer said, moving as if to touch Sehun’s cheek. Sehun flinched and drew back further.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Jongdae snarled, hitting Lucifer’s hand out of the way, “Do you want to lose a hand?”

The close proximity of Lucifer right here staring at him finally broke Sehun, and he finally started breathing faster and faster. Jongdae didn’t have to check to know that Sehun’s shoulders had started to shake.

“Do you know why I kept you all this time?” Lucifer asked in a soft voice, in the same tone one would use to hush and sooth someone to sleep, “Why I didn’t change you like the others? Why I hid you away, took you out of time?”

Sehun jerked his head, and Jongdae was plotting, imagining a thousand different ways to hurt Lucifer. He only needed to make a move, and Lucifer was done. Right now, Jongdae considered stringing him up by his fingers and hanging him outside a window to use for target practice. But that was too kind.

“No one likes time,” Lucifer said, “We’re immortal, but we’re not immune to time’s passage, its horrible influence. There are a lot of things I forget as we age. I can’t keep all of time in here, you know.”

He tapped his head, and Jongdae changed his mind. Maybe he could just burn Lucifer alive. That seemed fine. A slow torture.

“But I want to remember the glory days,” Lucifer said, spreading out his hands. It was a slow movement, a nonthreatening one, but Sehun flinched again. Jongdae was aching to kill. “I want to remember the times I stood up, tore heaven apart with my own fingers, and pitted angel against angel, kin against kin. What a great time.”

“Can you like…shut the fuck up?” Jongdae asked, twirling his dagger in his hand.

Lucifer mimed Jongdae before paying him no more attention.

“You’re that reminder,” Lucifer continued, jabbing the air with a finger towards Sehun, “that even if other Lus take my place, no one can be as good as me, as terrible as me. Who else has come close to doing something like I did? No one.”

“So I’m a trophy,” Sehun said, “just a trophy you kept locked away in a dusty room.”

“Oh, don’t say it like that,” Lucifer said, waving his hand, “You’re a _reminder_. I told you that. Spoils of the war I rightfully won. You were too beautiful to kill, to infect with hate, so I kept you for myself. I was really going to let you out, you know. One day or another if I was bored enough. If I remembered.”

“You were going to let me go?” Sehun asked, something short of not hope, but curiosity glimmering in his voice.

“Oh, well. Sure,” Lucifer nodded, “Sure! Maybe for a minute or two. Before I killed you.”

Jongdae took a deep breath to calm himself because he needed his mind clear and not blinded by fury in this moment. He was at two thousand ways to kill now.

“No one can kill you except me,” Lucifer said, clasping his hands together, “I was saving you for another day I was bored or missed the rush of a good sin. On that day, I would have let you go, given you false hope that you were free. And then I’d cut your wings off and stab you. Of course you can’t die in the human sense. But what’s an angel without their wings? What’s an angel without their heart? I wanted to do that for myself, but _someone_ ruined my plan by stealing you away.”

“Surprise, bitch,” Jongdae said, “that was me. You have terrible taste in interior design by the way. What the fuck.”

From behind him, he could hear Luhan laughing, and he felt Sehun’s grip relax just the slightest. Encouraged, Jongdae taunted Lucifer with his expression, mocking him with an imitation of one of Luhan’s most dramatic looks.

“ _You_?” Lucifer said, snapping his attention to Jongdae, “Why you? What would a traitor want with my angel?”

Jongdae didn’t want to implicate Luhan, so he shouldered the blame just like he always did and stayed quiet. But Sehun bent down, whispered in his ear with urgency, soft enough for not everyone to hear, but loud enough for Lucifer to catch.

“ _Jongdae_ ,” Sehun said, the single word, the single name reverberating and brimming with sentiments that tugged at Jongdae’s heart. But he could not answer right now because if he looked back, he would be lost, lost in Sehun and his bright eyes, his sweet lips, and he would give Lucifer the chance to strike. So he slightly turned his neck towards Sehun and only exhaled in response.

Lucifer spluttered and waved a finger at them.

“Did you…” Lucifer said, his mouth unable to keep up with what he wanted to say, “Luhan did you _see_ that? Did you _hear_ that? The way Sehun called his name?”

“So what?” Luhan said, sounding so distant behind them, “What the fuck is the problem now? Are you going to carry on and monologue or do we need to explain to you that—”

“ _Jongdae_ ,” Lucifer tried to imitate the way Sehun had spoken. But the name in his mouth sounded more simpering than sweet, more grating than great. “Did you fucking _hear_ the way he said his name?”

He shook his head and pointed at them.

“Look at that,” Lucifer said, as if noticing for the first time the way Sehun clung to Jongdae. “Look at _them_. What are they d—”

“They’re touching. How scandalous,” Luhan echoed in a bored tone, “Are you done, or do you want to talk about how close they are? Can’t wait for you to figure out they’re firebound. You’ll love that…you old ashy fuck.”

He whispered that last part to himself.

“I can’t accept this,” Lucifer loudly protested, pressing his fingers to his temples, “Oh…oh this is _terrible_. Firebound? Firebound to Jongdae?”

“He covered up the scar you gave me,” Sehun said, a little stronger now, a little braver now, “I can barely see it, and it pains me no longer. He helped me destroy your cage, so I have nothing to remind myself of you. And who knows. Years from now, maybe I’ll finally forget. Then what will become of you?”

Something that had been simmering below Lucifer’s skin finally emerged and manifested into the ugliest scowl Jongdae had ever seen.

“No one can have you except me,” Lucifer said. Gone was the soothing tone of his voice. Now there was only a deep rumble, an ancient abyss of darkness bleeding into his words. “I don’t like sharing. Never did. Firebound to Jongdae? Disgusting. Part of Luhan’s heart? Unacceptable. If I can’t have you locked in a cage to myself, then I’ll kill you right now, right there. Maybe I should’ve killed you earlier and left your body to rot away in a dusty corner of my house where no one would find you or remember you. Death is perfect for you, Sehun. It’s what you deserve.”

Jongdae seemed to have forgotten all the different methods of injury and death that he had thought about because fury snapped him, and all he could do was not set him on fire, not stab him again and again until he dissolved into ash, not gut him up and leave him hanging and bleeding out, but rather land the hardest motherfucking punch he had ever thrown in his whole entire existence straight across the face of Lucifer himself.

Lucifer, taken aback and caught off guard, stumbled back, falling to the floor from the force of the punch and clutched at his jaw. Jongdae breathed heavily, ignoring how his knuckles throbbed. This pain was fine. He had worse.

There was only time for Luhan to laugh a few seconds, to clap his hands, the applause echoing across the room before it lapsed into silence.

Then hell broke loose.

With a snarl, Lucifer pushed himself up from the floor and charged towards Jongdae and Sehun, eyes flashing with hate, dagger raised to kill. Before Jongdae could land a second blow, a figure streaked past him and tackled Lucifer to the ground, knocking the knife out of his hand.

“No fair, Jongdae,” Luhan said right after he punched Lucifer across the face, “I wanted to hit him first. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting?”

Lucifer’s demons immediately drew their weapons after Lucifer went down, charging forwards, and Jongdae did not hesitate to slit the throat of the nearest demon that came at them.

“Too bad,” Jongdae called out, kicking another demon in the stomach before stabbing him again, “You should’ve acted sooner then. Why do I have to do everything first?”

Luhan laughed, the conversation dying as they focused, each fighting to win. Jongdae did not care where he stabbed, how much pain he inflicted, because his priority was Sehun. Getting him out. Protecting. Defending. If he stopped to count the demons he had sent back to the fire, the number would be in the twenties. So preoccupied with the violence unfolding before them, Jongdae didn’t even realize he had been wounded until Sehun cried out.

“Jongdae, your shoulder,” Sehun said, immediately putting his hand on top of it.

“Don’t bother,” Jongdae said, “It’s nothing.”

Around the fighting, the overturned and smashed tables, and the broken bottles of wine that bled onto the floor, Jongdae spotted their way out towards the front doors of the dining room.

“Are you going to keep up, or do I have to come back and get you,” Jongdae shouted at Luhan, a few meters away from them.

“Jongdae, I’m hurt,” Luhan laughed as he parried Lucifer’s attack, “You don’t think I can handle myself?”

“Of course you can…but what am I going to do when you miss me too much?” Jongdae said. He heard another laugh in reply, and Jongdae found himself smiling as he pulled Sehun through the dining hall.

Sehun didn’t fight, didn’t want to stab anyone in return, but he pushed demons out of the way, pulling Jongdae into the air with a flap of his wings when several demons attempted to attack them at once.

“Joy,” Jongdae called out, seeing her enter the room from the front doors. She watched for a second, stunned by the scene before kicking the nearest demon.

“Jongdae,” she shouted, gasping as she pointed beside him, “Watch out!”

Without looking back, he kicked the chair next to him, sending it flying into the direction of the demon he knew was coming at him.

“Where’s Sunmi and Joy?” he yelled.

“They’re just outside,” Joy said, ducking before she stabbed a demon in the thigh, “I ran in to find you. What now?”

“Take Sehun, and go,” Jongdae said.

“No, Jongdae, not again,” Sehun said as Joy ran towards them, fighting her way through. She had taken off her shoes, using the sharpened heels to cut and stab anyone who came too near.

“Hey,” Jongdae said, hands hovering over Sehun’s cheeks. He didn’t want to touch him, to smear any blood on his skin. “Sehun, don’t worry. This time it won’t last long. Just go first. I’ll grab Luhan and then we’ll find you.”

“I won’t hide again,” Sehun shook his head, “Not like last time. Not without you.”

No matter what Jongdae said this time could not change Sehun’s mind.

“Then stay close,” Jongdae conceded, “Don’t leave my side.

Sehun promised and quickly smashed a dinner plate across the head of a demon who had thought attacking Jongdae would be a good idea.

“Do you want a sword or are you too…soft for that,” Luhan said as he suddenly appeared next to them, sending another demon’s weapon flying from his hands with a skilled flick of his wrist.

“What happened to Lucifer?” Jongdae looked back.

“What, did you think I’d lose? I fight to win at all costs, so I slammed a wine chiller onto his head,” Luhan said, “Fighting clean is for losers. I think we have about ten seconds left before he pulls it off, so let’s go.”

Jongdae gave himself half a second to picture Lucifer struggling to pull off a bucket from his head before grabbing Sehun’s hand and running towards the exit, all while dodging whizzing arrows and thrown knives. Outside the hall, they found Sunmi and Yeri busying themselves with more of Lucifer’s demons outside. Yeri had wrapped a chain around one demon’s neck and choked him until he slumped to the ground. Sunmi gracefully sprung from the walls, landing on top of a demon and wrapping her thighs around their neck before snapping it with a quick flex. After they noticed everyone had gathered, Luhan led them forwards until they barricaded themselves in Luhan’s room.

There they all took a moment to breathe, to relax.

“Do you have it?” Luhan whispered. Yeri nodded and whispered something in his ear.

“If it comes to it,” Luhan said, turning around, “Then yes. We’ll have to.”

“Jongdae might hate us,” Yeri quietly said.

“No he won’t. It’s for everyone’s sake,” Luhan said.

Jongdae held onto Sehun harder and patted his body with his other hand, making sure that he had all his daggers with him. He had lost three in the fight, but he still had seven left.

“What are we doing?” Sunmi asked, “How can we save Sehun?”

“We can’t let Lucifer have him,” Joy said with a shake of her head.

“Not again,” Jongdae said.

Never again.

“We’ll fight our way out,” Luhan said, picking up his swords from the mantelpiece and sheathing it on his belt, “You and Sehun go to the fields and hide there, Jongdae. We’ll fight off Lucifer, and when we win, that’s got to be enough to grant me retirement.”

He smiled and nodded as if he was convinced this would free him.

“Jae’s not a demon yet,” Joy said, “How will you retire officially?”

“Does it matter?” Luhan said, “close enough. If I can make the moon bend whenever I want, then what makes hell itself think its so special?”

“Then we should go now,” Sunmi said, “I saw one of Lucifer’s demons call for backup, so we need to act now before his army approaches.”

“Fine,” Luhan said, testing the weight of his sword in his hand, “On three.”

“Three.”

They all gathered by the door, weapons out, hearts pounding, waiting for Luhan’s command.

“Two.”

Luhan gripped the doorknob and looked back, nodding at the realization that this would be the final moment of peace for a while.

“One.”

He twisted open the doorknob, tore open the door, and down the hallways they ran, killing any demon that dared to stand in their way. Luhan and Jongdae led from the front, and Sunmi, Joy, and Yeri defended from behind. Sehun stayed in the middle, watching between his hands as demons turned to ashes before him. Along the way, they bumped into Jae, screaming his head off as he ducked some demon’s blows. Luhan stabbed the offending demon and roughly pulled him up.

“Do you want to stay here and let Lucifer kill you, or do you want to come with us,” Luhan said.

Jae came with them, holding a sword with uneasy hands. Luhan gathered the rest of his demons that he saw along the way, and soon, they had enough people to easily escape from the castle and into the night.

Jongdae looked back once and saw Lucifer fight his way towards him, yelling as he cut down demon after demon brave enough to even stand in his way. Luhan pushed him forwards, telling him to take Sehun and _go, go, go_. There was no time for good-byes, so Jongdae ran, pulling Sehun with him. They headed for the fields, the circle of fire just coming within view. By now, they were so _close._ Twenty seconds more and they could easily lose themselves in the darkness. But out of nowhere, time struck.

Oh.

Of course this.

Of course this now.

Of course.

With a gasp, Jongdae’s legs gave way and down he fell as the collar suddenly activated and clamped down on his neck. He heard the others yell behind him in the distance, Luhan screaming a frustrated _no_. Sehun instantly fell to his knees to comfort Jongdae, to take his pain away.

“Go,” Jongdae gasped, gesturing wildly at the fields, “Just _go_. I’ll be fine.”

“I can’t leave you,” Sehun said, loud enough so only Jongdae heard. He cradled Jongdae close to his chest and tried to take as much of the pain as he could.

“Run…what are you waiting for?” Jongdae said through gritted teeth, “You can’t go back to Lucifer.”

Perhaps luck was on their side, as this time, within a few more short moments of agony, the pain ceased. Jongdae staggered to his feet, and with his chest heaving from the exertion, grabbed Sehun’s hand and ran forwards once more. They were almost there, almost there, almost—

“Oh, this is all it could’ve taken?” Lucifer sounded all too near, snapping his fingers. Jongdae’s collar ignited once more, and he fell to the ground clutching at his throat. Not this again.

“ _Stop_ ,” Luhan yelled. Jongdae heard rustling and found Luhan and the others standing above of him, swords raised, “You _can’t_ …You _can’t_ do that to him. He’s already had his time. Don’t do that to him again.”

“I created hell. I do whatever I want whenever I want,” Lucifer said, only a few meters away, “And I want to hurt Jongdae because he took Sehun.”

“Stop it,” Sehun cried out, gripping Jongdae tighter. Jongdae uselessly told Sehun to go on without him for as many times as he could muster, but Sehun ignored him and shook his head over and over again.

“I already hid without you once,” Sehun said, “I can’t do it again. What’s the point if you’re not with me?”

“The point is to save your life,” Jongdae urgently said through gritted teeth, “Save yourself, Sehun. Don’t give up your life for mine.”

“I won’t have a life if yours is gone anyways,” Sehun said, his eyebrows knitting upwards as he gazed at Jongdae, “There’s no point in eternity if I don’t have someone to spend it with. There's no point in eternity if you're spending too much of it in pain. Maybe I can fix that now.”

No matter what Jongdae said next could not change Sehun’s mind. Taking a deep breath, Sehun tore his gaze away from Jongdae and looked for Lucifer.

“Take off his collar, and I’ll go back with you,” Sehun said.

“Sehun, _don’t_ ,” Jongdae said, tightly wrapping his arms around Sehun to make him stay. Sehun couldn’t. “It’s not worth it.”

“Very good,” Lucifer said, clapping his hands, “Be a good angel and come to me now.”

Sehun pressed a kiss to Jongdae’s forehead, whispered he was sorry, and stood up after he pried Jongdae’s hands off of him. Jongdae was already grabbing wildly at the air for Sehun, but he had already gone. Weakened by the pain, Jongdae fought to force himself up to at least a kneeling position.

“You have to promise,” Sehun said, taking the first step.

“I don’t promise,” Lucifer said, “You either take your chance or leave it.”

Sehun turned back to look at his demon, suffering, crying out for him, and smiled.

“I’ll take my chance,” Sehun said, walking forwards. Who had it worse? Jongdae for watching Sehun go, or Sehun for having to leave Jongdae?

“Sehun,” Luhan said, holding out his hand to stop him before he could take another step, “Stop. Be selfish, wouldn’t you? Don’t give up yourself. Don’t go back.”

“You failed to take off Jongdae’s collar, so this must be the way,” Sehun said. 

Luhan frowned, considering Sehun’s words before turning to Lucifer.

“Lucifer,” Luhan said, “Must you kill him? Wouldn’t you rather just to stuff him back in a cage?”

"Kill?" Sehun said, taking a step back, his voice barely a whisper, "I never said anything about dying."

“Angels don’t die, Luhan,” Lucifer said, smiling at Sehun's reaction, “But if you rip their heart out, then they’ll be as good as dead. I plan to rip out Sehun’s heart and never return it to him. That’ll teach Jongdae.”

“I know that,” Luhan said, struggling to keep his voice calm, “but there has to be a way. Stuff Sehun back in a cage, and in return, stop Jongdae’s pain.”

“No, he has to die,” Lucifer said, shaking his head, “or at least experience the closest thing to death.”

“Why?” Sehun asked, his voice barely a whisper, lost among the burning of the fires. He took another step back and hid behind Luhan. Jongdae yelled at him to take another step back, another step back, another step back until he was back here. Couldn't he see being that close to Lucifer was dangerous? 

“Just because,” Lucifer smiled, spreading his arms out, “Must I have a reason for everything I do? I’m Lucifer.”

No one clapped.

“If I let Sehun die,” Luhan said, “then you have to promise to free Jongdae from his pain.”

Lucifer didn’t immediately react, so Luhan snapped his fingers to summon his own demons to quickly grab Sehun and restrain him. Sehun let out a shout, surprised by the sudden roughness and dragged his feet, leaving marks in the ground. He could do nothing as the demons dragged him in front of Luhan. Jongdae's screams were either ignored or they fell on deaf ears as Luhan refused to turn around to even acknowledge him.

Sehun was not afraid of Luhan. At least that was what he had told Jongdae. But in this moment, he stared at Luhan with wide eyes, a question frozen on his slightly parted lips. He didn’t say it, but everyone knew. Would he kill him? Could he look him in the eyes and really send him off to die?

Lucifer put his hands behind his back and stared upwards at the moon, appearing to consider Luhan’s words. The silence was tense, punctuated by the sound of Sehun struggling to breathe and Jongdae hurtling protest after protest, curse after curse, no after _no_.

Lucifer finally strode forwards to stand in front of Luhan, staring at him a moment longer before resting one of his hands on the dagger he kept by his hip.

“Do you know how to kill a demon?” Lucifer asked.

“We don’t die easily, but we still die if we’re beaten, burned enough. Everyone has their breaking point,” Luhan said. He kept his arms folded across his chest, but Sunmi and Joy exchanged a look and mirrored Lucifer’s gesture, putting their hands on the hilt of their daggers. Just in case.

“No, no,” Lucifer shook his head, “You’re a Lu. I mean a common demon, one that doesn’t have our wings. An inferior demon.”

“It’s the same,” Luhan said, “We die the same.”

Lucifer shook his head and sighed.

“You don’t get it Luhan,” he said, “the most obvious way to kill a demon? It’s easy if you’re a Lu. Just snap your fingers and kill them…or just torture them for eternities until you feel like stopping or until they crave the end. And die. Isn’t that what you’re doing to Jongdae?”

“I’m asking for his pain gone,” Luhan snapped, “Will you stop it or not?”

“Then,” Lucifer said, carrying on as if he hadn’t heard Luhan, “Do you know how to murder a demon?”

He paused, noticing the clench in Luhan’s jaw, and let out a low chuckle before turning to look at Jongdae. He did not bend down to meet Jongdae’s gaze but stared at him from where he stood. Jongdae was thrashing, clawing at the ground, but he found it within himself to still glare and throw a scream, a taunt at Lucifer.

“Give them something they know they can’t have,” Lucifer said before returning his attention to Sehun, still restrained next to Luhan. He moved to touch Sehun’s shoulder, but Sehun jerked back wildly, causing Lucifer to laugh. “Give them time with it, any time at all.”

“Then take it away,” Lucifer said, striking Sehun in the chest with a fist. Sehun let out a groan, and Jongdae found himself wishing he had just killed Lucifer all that time ago instead of punching him. A punch was too easy. Lucifer deserved worse.

“Now, Luhan,” Lucifer said, rubbing the skin of his fist with his other hand, “Do you know how to kill an angel?”

“Twist a knife into their hearts, let your hate poison theirs, and watch,” Luhan said.

“I suppose that’s one way,” Lucifer thoughtfully said, “but I think more of that method as…liberating them. Freeing them from their terrible predisposition to kindness and changing them to their elevated self. A Lu.”

“Oh, Jae wasn’t kind when we met him,” Luhan said, “And didn’t you start everything when you were an angel? Angels aren’t kind.”

“How to murder an angel,” Lucifer said instead, “Cut open their chest and pluck their golden, shining heart out…all while letting the ones they love watch. Watch.”

A certain hush fell across the crowd, all demons listening to Lucifer. But Jongdae couldn’t give a fuck about Lucifer and his terrible words, still attempting to fight the pain and fight his way forwards. From here, on the ashy ground, he could only see Sehun’s chest heaving up and down, Sehun unsuccessfully trying to edge away from Lucifer. But he didn’t need to see to know that there must have been panicked tears in Sehun’s eyes, there must have been a wobble or two from his bottom lip, and there must have been a tremor of fear striking his heart.

“I don’t promise,” Lucifer said at last, “Will you take your chance? Kill two with one?”

“You can’t have Jongdae,” Luhan said, “I told you.”

“I don’t need to touch him to kill him,” Lucifer smiled, “You haven’t been listening.”

“Then stay away,” Luhan said.

“I won’t send him to the fire pit now,” Lucifer said, “What’s the use if I kill him and he just stands up two seconds later from the ashes?”

“So we have a deal?” Luhan said.

“If that’s what you want to believe,” Lucifer said after a slight pause.

“Then one more thing,” Luhan said, “if Sehun has to die, then let me kill him.”

Sehun’s jaw dropped open, and Jongdae was struggling to pull himself up, trying to move, trying to get _up_ and stand so he could run over and stop this. He cursed his weakness and hated himself for being unable to do anything but uselessly crawl barely a few centimeters forwards, the result of all that struggling.

“You’re still speaking in the conditional, Luhan,” Lucifer shook his head, “If this, if that. You’re a Lu. We take what we want. There are no ifs. I want Sehun to die, so Sehun will die.”

“Sehun has to die,” Luhan started again, undeterred. He refused to look at Sehun. He could not look at Sehun. “So let me kill him.”

Lucifer watched his expression, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“Better. But why would I let you have what is mine?” Lucifer said. To prove a point, he jabbed at Sehun’s chest with a finger. “I stole him, I kept him, so it is my right to kill him.”

“Because you like chaos, right?” Luhan said, sounding like Lucifer had sounded when he had first tempted Luhan to make this same choice, “What could be more cruel, more chaotic than stabbing your own brother’s heart? Wouldn’t you want to see the look of betrayal on Jongdae’s face? If you kill him, then he loses Sehun. But if I kill him, he’ll lose Sehun and me.”

Jongdae ignored the pain ringing in his head and finally managed to pull himself up on shaky legs and screamed out a desperate _stop_. Without even looking, Lucifer snapped his fingers and summoned his guards to push Jongdae back down.

“Do it before I change my mind,” Lucifer said, stepping back to watch Jongdae’s worst nightmare come to life. Luhan didn’t look at Jongdae, didn’t look at Sehun, only gestured at his demons to force Sehun down. They all missed the slight wince on his face when the demons roughly pushed Sehun to the ground.

Luhan took out a dagger, the one his mother had given him, and raised it in the air before hesitating.

“What, can’t do it?” Lucifer asked.

“All I need to do is take out his heart, right?” Luhan said.

“You have less than a minute or I’ll take it myself,” Lucifer said.

Luhan made the mistake of looking at Sehun who stared back at him with wide eyes, of listening to Jongdae scream. Everything was happening too fast, and Jongdae wanted to know why they all seemed so far away.

In this moment, Jongdae wished he could say he fought his way through the crowd, strong enough to resist the pain from his collar, strong enough to rip apart hell so he could save Sehun. He wished he could say he that he kept all his promises and protected Sehun like he had always sworn he would. And he wished that he could say that his love, his anger was strong enough to tear down anything in his way because he lived for Sehun, always for Sehun.

But oh, no.

That’s not how it happened at all.

Because the true reality of everything was this.

This.

It took ten demons to hold Jongdae back, all those hands to hold him down. Ten demons and the collar’s pain tearing him apart. All of that, and yet Jongdae was still fighting his way, crawling his way forwards to Sehun. It was only now he realized why Luhan had warned him all that time ago. Once demons gave away their heart, they’d never recover fully if they were hurt. But Luhan never warned him about this, this pain that Jongdae felt sear through his chest when he heard Sehun scream and scream and scream. It hurt to care. It hurt to love.

Demons understood that they had to take their punishment if they had misbehaved. There was no attempt to escape their punishment. There was an equal retribution for every act. They understood that. But Sehun was not a demon, not even in the slightest, and he tearfully thrashed and writhed as demons pinned his arms and held his wings to the ground. Jongdae screamed until his voice was hoarse, and even then he kept on going though it hurt.

“Why aren’t you doing anything?” he yelled, spotting Sunmi and Joy standing there, covering half their faces with their hands, “he loves you, he loves you, he _loves_ so much, and…” By then, the coherency of his words died, and Jongdae just bellowed at anyone at all to do something, at Luhan to just _stop._ Luhan looked at no one, tossing the dagger around in his hands, not able to look at anyone. Not Jongdae, not Sehun.

“I’ll do it,” Yeri announced, snatching the blade from Luhan, “Your hands are shaking. It’ll hurt Sehun more if you do it, and he deserves a quick death at least. It won’t be painless, but we shouldn’t make him suffer any more than he has to.”

Sehun tried his best to break free and escape, but he could not move, could not do anything but twist his neck back and forth as he cried out to deaf ears and hearts that had hardened so it would hurt less when they would witness what was to come. Jongde blinked and stilled for just a second and only a second until he was back, yelling that he _trusted_ her…he trusted them all. And if they would not spare Sehun, then could they at least take him instead? Could they kill him in Sehun’s place?

“If you kill him, then you kill me,” Jongdae hysterically said, feeling light-headed for all the wrong reasons. He wasn’t done fighting, never done fighting, and no matter how futile his thrashing seemed, he kept going, kept pulling his arms, jerking his legs away from the hands that pushed him down.

“Then die!” Lucifer laughed, “Oh, I don’t regret relinquishing the kill over to you. It’s so fun to watch all of this betrayal, this heartbreak, this cruelty unfold before my very own eyes.”

Jongdae shook his head again and again and again as he watched Sehun’s chest rise and fall, rise and fall, rise and fall. Sehun fought for every quick breath and turned to Jongdae at last, his eyes so wide, his mouth open in panic.

“ _Jongdae_ ,” Sehun cried out, and that’s when Jongdae lost it and burst into tears. His shoulders shook from grief, and he could not bear to keep watching because in this moment, he knew that they had lost. He had lost.

“ _Sehun_ ,” Jongdae said between smothered syllables and strangled tears, “I am so _sorry_.”

Because this was hell.

This wasn’t the place for beautiful endings because everyone deserved the best. This wasn’t the place where the mere sight of Jongdae could calm Sehun down so he’d relaxed and take what was coming with a smile on his face, no. This wasn’t the place where the demons Jongdae had grown up with had a change of heart and turned the knife on Lucifer instead of Sehun, no. This wasn’t the place for surviving, for living, for loving. This wasn’t the place for good-byes because eternity damned them to a forever, so they could meet again despite this. They had to meet again.

Jongdae missed how eerily calm Yeri seemed as she hovered above of Sehun and raised the knife up because he was too busy calling out to Sehun, stumbling on his words. He did not care about anything except Sehun in this very moment, didn’t register anything, so he didn’t realize what was happening until the moment had passed.

He sobbed as the knife swung down, looking like a flash of gold that shone bright in the dark.

That was the last thing he saw before he squeezed his eyes shut and fell limp, lifeless. The hands let him fall but still pinned him to the ground. He didn’t care. He was beyond caring about what happened to him now. He placed his hands over his ears as if that’d save him from the sounds that would never stop ringing in his ears and reverberating in his heart, tearing him apart with every second that passed. The sound of the knife splitting apart Sehun’s chest, digging deeper and deeper into his body. The sound of Sehun crying out for help. The sound of Jongdae’s heart breaking as Sehun’s heart was ripped out of his chest.

They could strike him now, and he’d never even notice. He gave into the pain of his collar and stayed down. He would not show the others his tears, so he covered his head with his arms. Voices flitted in and out, floating about hell, sounding so far away, like they were in another dimension.

“You did it,” Lucifer said, “You actually did it…I’m impressed. Not with you, Luhan, but Yeri? It’s too bad you’re not a Lu.”

“Please,” Luhan scoffed. He could not hide the shakiness in his voice, could not mask the smoothness in the single syllable. “I’d give her my name and this throne, but who wants to be a Lu?”

“Certainly not me,” Yeri said, “Is there anyone else here who wants this?”

“Not me.”

“Not me.”

“Not me.”

"Be quiet,” Lucifer snarled, “I gave you my name, and this is how you repay me? Just give me the heart. I’ll be on my way.”

Jongdae’s eyes flew open, and he shivered as he lay on the ground. He needed to memorize what Sehun’s heart physically looked like so he could find it himself and return it to Sehun so he could come back to life. But as soon as he looked, he was hit with a new wave of tears once again, not prepared for the sight of the beating, pulsing heart that dripped golden blood.

“Not so fast,” Luhan said, “Free Jongdae first.”

“Why would I do that?” Lucifer said, “What if you try to trick me?”

“And what if you try to trick us, too?” Luhan asked. He held out a hand to stop Yeri from giving up the heart.

“You’ve already come this far. You did the unthinkable, and yet you won’t trust me? What would I have to gain from tricking you? You give me the heart, and I give you what you want,” Lucifer sighed, stretching out his hand.

Before Luhan could react, Yeri reached forwards, holding out the heart. Lucifer snatched it out of her grasp and examined it. He then snapped his fingers, and the pain left Jongdae.

This was not how he pictured freedom. Not with tears on his face, not feeling this broken even after the collar stopped hurting him.

Lucifer examined the heart for a second more before he bit down on the flesh, taking a bite out of it as if it were an apple. But Sehun’s heart was tough, and Lucifer had to sink his teeth into the flesh, twisting his neck to try and tear out a piece of it. After he took the first bite, he chewed, not bothering to wipe the blood from his mouth. An angel without a heart couldn’t be conscious, couldn’t seem alive, so this was it. The end. Jongdae closed his eyes, not having the energy to watch. His breathing was ragged, choked, and maybe if he forced himself to sleep, he could wake up and find that everything had been a terrible nightmare.

“Maybe I should’ve started eating angel hearts eternities ago,” Lucifer said, his mouth full, “their blood is really something else. It’s almost…sweet.”

Jongdae was tired, but he wasn’t even close to falling asleep. The sound of loud chewing kept him wide-awake.

“You finished it,” Luhan said after a while, his voice soft, almost a whisper, “You really ate the whole heart.”

Jongdae kept his eyes closed but scraped the ashy ground with his fingers and pulled his hands into fists.

“Are you done? Stop wasting time. Take off Jongdae’s collar,” Luhan ordered, “That was the deal.”

“No, the deal was to stop the pain,” Lucifer said, “But you never said for how long. So now I’ll give it back to him. And five hundred years is too tame. Jongdae should suffer for eternity. It’s what he deserves.”

Jongdae heard a snap of a finger and felt his body convulse as the pain returned. He didn’t fight it, just felt it headfirst. This was nothing compared to the pain of losing Sehun after all. Around him, he heard an outburst of fury.

“ _Lucifer_ ,” Luhan bellowed, “We had a deal. Stop this right now.”

“I honored it,” Lucifer said, “You should’ve been more specific. Don’t you know you should have thought of every term, every condition, every loophole before making a deal with the devil?”

Luhan hurled himself at Lucifer with a stream of profanities falling from his lips. He pulled out his sword, about to swing it straight at Lucifer before five of his henchdemons grabbed him and wrestled him back.

“Get _off_ of me,” Luhan said, struggling them, “I’ll _kill_ you for that.”

“Then for that,” Lucifer calmly said, “I’ll do you one better. The collar will pain Jongdae until he dies of suffering. Again and again and again, he’ll be doomed to be reborn, to face the pain and not know when it will finally take him. Maybe one life it’ll be ten years. Maybe another it’ll be a day. I like surprises. He should, too.”

Lucifer snapped his fingers to seal his fate, but Jongdae didn’t care. How could he, when Sehun was gone? Maybe this was for the best. Maybe he’d be able to see him again after he shut his eyes and took his final breath.

But Luhan cared. But Yeri, Sunmi, and Joy cared. So finally, with a terrible scream, they lunged towards Lucifer, ready to tear him apart. But Lucifer’s guards had been prepared and fought them back. Luhan had killed one, was ready to kill another with his bare hands, but a single word from Lucifer stopped caused him to freeze.

“Continue, and I’ll kill him right now in front of your eyes,” Lucifer said, crossing his hands, “Stop, and I leave. I’ll wait.”

Luhan’s eyes flashed red, murderous, and trembling in absolute rage, he opened his mouth and screamed.

“I _hate_ you,” he screamed, pushing against the demons that had restrained him once again. As he continued screaming the sentiment, there were no tears on his face, but only a twisted, cruel expression as he fought to reach forwards and tear Lucifer apart.

Suddenly, Jae amongst the crowd collapsed, convulsing. Luhan quieted, turning to look at him. Before their eyes, black veins shot through Jae’s skin and gray wings, twisting, poisoning, infecting whatever angelic spirit was left in him. Soon enough, the gray wings turned pitch black, and when Jae opened his eyes, they were red.

“I told you I could hate. Look…There’s my heir,” Luhan coolly said, “So I can act now.”

“Act?” Lucifer said, “You’re powerless against me.”

Luhan pushed the demons holding him off with a snarl and stood tall and strong, eyes burning holes into Lucifer.

“I, Luhan, ruler of hell and all of its darkness and fire,” Luhan began to say, chin up, wings spread out, “declare war on you, Lucifer. I damn you with countless battles you will never escape from. I damn you to bathe in a sea of blood that I’ll rip from your body, from the demons under your rule. Eternity is eternity, so until you reverse what you have done, I will come at you until time ends. And when I win, I will take your heart myself and stuff you in a cage so small you will always feel like you’re suffocating. Get fucked.”

Yeri glanced at Luhan with a stony expression and walked over to stand by him. Her hands were still stained with golden blood.

“For every second Jongdae spends suffering, I will inflict that back onto you,” Yeri said, “You made a mistake coming after my firebound.”

But Sehun had been firebound to her, too. And look what she had done.

Sunmi shivered and hid her face in her hands before she resolutely lowered them and stared calmly at Lucifer.

“I’ve often hurt people who dared to speak badly about Jongdae,” Sunmi said, “so what do you think I’ll do to you, for all the pain you’ve given him, you’re giving him, you’ll give him?”

“You think you own hell, but you do not own the dead,” Joy said, snapping her fingers. Within seconds, a crowd of dead souls surged forwards on dragging feet, hands outreached for Lucifer. Under the firelight and the dim lighting of Sehun’s wings, still bright in death, they looked just like they did the first time they saw Sehun. “You think you own us because we’re demons, but the only thing you’ve taught us is hate. I hate you for what you’ve done, and for Jongdae’s sake I’ll fight to win. I’ll hate to kill.”

Lucifer stood, unbothered by the declarations and the dead that slowly began closing in on him. He surveyed their set expressions, noticed that they had stopped crying, and began clapping in amusement. The sound echoed in the distant space.

“I’m so pleased I could die from satisfaction!” Lucifer laughed, “Really, I’m so glad I created you all. Look at all this chaos! This hate! This is what I want…I’ll entertain you for a few years with war, but you’ll give up after a while. Everyone usually does. No one cares for all of eternity.”

“You didn’t create us,” Jongdae said, staggering to his feet. The collar still cut at him, still stabbed him, but he didn’t care, and it was the adrenaline, the rage that pushed him to stand on weak legs, to live on a weak heart. “You only created the Lus. We are demons of hell and the night, born not from your hate, but from the fire’s light.”

“You can still stand after all of that?” Lucifer asked, “Should I make the pain worse?”

A new wave of pain struck Jongdae and sent him to his knees. Jongdae clawed at the ground, letting out a scream. But he was not done. He would not stand down, would not bow down even if Lucifer pushed his head to the floor and stamped upon his heart. Mustering all the energy he had left, Jongdae stood again by himself and pretended for one shining moment that someone was by his side to light up the darkness with glimmering wings that put Lucifer’s dark ones to shame. Jongdae felt an angel alive in him tonight, and gritting his teeth, he spat out blood and spoke.

“If you think chaos and hate is all that means to be a demon, then it’s a wonder hell didn’t completely collapse under your rule. Time is the only thing that’s kept hell eternal,” Jongdae said, and though he tried not to seem affected, there was no way he could not pretend none of this hurt. He roughly brushed aside some tears that had fallen on his face, pressed his lips together to stop the cries, but his shoulders still shook, and Lucifer still noticed everything.

“Look at that,” Lucifer laughed, “Maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that angel’s heart so soon. If I knew you would’ve all reacted like that, then I would’ve given you hope by placing it back into his chest. I would’ve watched him wake up, blink once, and take his first breath. And as I’d touch his cheek and whisper that it’d be all right, I’d kill him again, grab his beating heart out of his chest and watch the light flicker out of his eyes again. Oh, Sehun. Sweet Sehun. How I wish you suffered more. I should’ve killed you myself.”

“Shut _up_ ,” Jongdae screamed. It was hard to stand through the pain, but he did so anyways. “Keep his name out of your fucking mouth.”

Lucifer tilted his head, staring at Jongdae for a second as if he wondered how a demon in this much pain could have the audacity and the strength to talk back to him like this when he could kill him with a single thought. But didn't he realize he already killed Jongdae when Sehun died and when he devoured his heart? Didn't he realize it was not love that gave Jongdae the strength to stand? Didn't he realize it was hate?

“Sehun, Sehun, Sehun. There. I said his name again. What are you going to do, kill me?” Lucifer laughed, “I’ve never died. Not even once. I’m me, after all. Lucifer. The original demon who everyone loves. You thought you could win? Your tears and your suffering make me so happy I could die right h—”

Before Lucifer could finish his sentence, a dagger impaled itself right into the middle of his forehead.

“Then die.” 

The throw had been strong enough to split apart Lucifer’s skull and lodge the knife straight through so only the hilt was visible. Shadows of frozen shock flitted across Lucifer’s countenance. Cracks began forming on his face, revealing a burning fire underneath, and slowly before everyone’s eyes, he began turning to ash. So this was what a death of a demon looked like. With the last millisecond left of life, of existence for now, Lucifer’s eyes bulged, and he fell to the ground, disappearing into ash as he pointed a damning finger at his murder.

With a heaving chest, the murderer clenched his fists, took the accusation in stride, and with a voice as low as the abyss but clear as the starless sky, wished that oblivion would tear Lucifer apart just as Lucifer tore apart his heart.

Jongdae had thrown that dagger out of rage, out of desperation, and while he had thrown to kill, he had never expected his target to die so easily. Not after all that talk. Not after all of time. But this was the rage of a demon, after all. This was the rage of a demon who had what he wanted so brutally ripped from his hands, who had his heart burnt and scorched like it was no matter at all, who lost what he had loved before he had a chance to say he loved so he’d never be lost.

Jongdae didn’t bother watching to see what would happen next, but if he hadn’t dropped to his knees, fell to the floor and curled up into himself and closed his eyes, he would’ve seen Luhan’s demons chase off Lucifer’s army who were powerless, confused without orders from him. He would’ve seen Luhan and the others approach him with blood-stained hands and tear-stained faces.

“Jongdae?” Sunmi spoke first, her voice a mere wobble, a mere whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

Sorry wasn’t for hell. There was nothing to be sorry for. They were who they were because they chose, and because they chose, they existed here.

“Jongdae,” Joy said, and she was not as good as hiding her tears, “Stay strong. We’re here with you.”

Jongdae had no reason to be strong anymore, so he kept quiet.

“Jongdae,” Yeri said, “We’re getting you out. There’s always a way out. Just wait.”

There was no reason to be free if there was no reason to stay alive. Jongdae didn’t care if he was free anymore or not.

“Jongdae,” Luhan spoke, voice firm, so clear that Jongdae almost opened his eyes to look at him. “Wait a little for me. I am sorry for everything, but I’ll get us out of here. When I win, I’ll be free from this, and you’ll be free, too.”

Jongdae couldn’t bear to speak, so he just nodded and hoped Luhan understood.

“You know,” Luhan said, a little softer, “When you manipulated that revolt, you did it with the intention of changing hell, right?”

Jongdae nodded. Yes. For Luhan.

“But the problem was that you cannot expect a revolution to succeed if you’re only changing the world. Then nothing will change,” Luhan said, “Maybe that’s why you failed.”

If that’s what Luhan wanted to believe, then that’s what he would believe. Jongdae couldn’t care at all right now

“But me? I’m fighting to change time,” Luhan said, “Your eternity will become finite. My time on the throne will become seconds. And then we’ll be free. So wait for me, and I’ll make time ours.”

Jongdae felt a hand grasp his shoulder before it disappeared. Then he felt other hands comfort him before they, too, left.

“Bye, Jongdae.”

“Bye, Jongdae.”

“Bye, Jongdae.”

Then Jongdae was alone. No one was left here with him because they had all gone, gone off to fight. With a shudder, he pulled his body closer together and resigned himself to an eternity of solitude, infinite kills, an empty heart, a broken will.

Jongdae felt another hand on him again, and he was about to ask what else the others had forgotten before he realized that the pain had lessened.

The pain had lessened.

Jongdae’s eyes flew open, and there right before him was an angel with wings brighter than anything he had ever seen, with lips softer than anything he had ever touched, and with a heart bigger than anything he had ever felt.

“Jongdae,” the angel said in such a way that caused Jongdae’s heart to leap back to life.

“ _Sehun_ ,” Jongdae cried out, and with his remaining strength, he sat up and launched himself into Sehun’s arms. He sagged in relief, leaning on Sehun.

“I’m here,” Sehun said, his shoulders shaking as he cried with Jongdae, “Don’t worry, I’m _here_.”

“I thought you died,” Jongdae said, twisting his fingers into Sehun’s clothes, “I thought Yeri cut open your chest and ripped out your heart.”

“I thought she would’ve too,” Sehun said, stroking Jongdae’s back, holding him tightly, “But she didn’t tell me…None of them told me their plan. It was only a pig’s heart, and she pulled it out using sleight of hand.”

“How did she get it to glow so brightly, almost like your wings?” Jongdae said, cupping Sehun’s face, brushing aside the tears that fell down his cheek.

“Remember the berries?” Sehun asked, “The berries from the gleaming trees you showed me all that time ago? They squeezed out their juice, coated, and injected the heart with it.”

That was Yeri. She always had a way out no matter what.

“How could she…How could they do this without telling me. How could they leave without telling me?” Jongdae said, turning his head around to look for them. But there was only darkness now. “Did they want me to hate them?”

“If they failed, it would’ve killed you,” Sehun said, “But really. All you demons are the same. Don’t you ever communicate? If I hadn’t been here to tell you what they planned, you would’ve hated.”

Jongdae was about to reflexively say that he wouldn’t have, but he stopped himself because he didn’t know. He didn’t know what hate he could’ve been capable of if Sehun really had died. But there was no time to hate anymore, just to survive, to endure this pain.

Suddenly a dreadful silence gripped them, and in that moment, both of them realized once again what would come. Jongdae would suffer many deaths and be continually reborn from the ashes for the rest of eternity.

“What will we do now?” Sehun said, “What can we do now if we’re doomed to this fate?”

“Just me,” Jongdae said, breath hitching in his throat, “It’s just me. You shouldn’t keep taking away my pain, Sehun. You’re free to g—”

“Don’t suffer alone, Jongdae. And go where?” Sehun said, raising his voice, “We were supposed to go together. So if we can’t, then I’ll wait until you come back, until you’re free, until we’re free.”

“Then I’ll live until I can’t,” Jongdae said. Eternity loomed over them, and what a time they would have, what a long forever they would have. There was all the time for this at least…all the time for Sehun. “But I’ll love with no end.”

“Forever until the end of time.”

“Since we’re together, we’ll be fine.”

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

There was a war around the fire pit that lasted months. Jongdae had proven that Lucifer was like them, that he could die. Lucifer was not a god, not even the slightest no matter what he said or believed, so Luhan wanted to wait by the fire and kill him again as soon as he was reborn. But Lucifer’s troops gathered to defend the fire, holding off Luhan’s demons as they waited for Lucifer to return. War raged for control of the fire, and in the midst of it all, the demons who were newly reborn had nothing but blood and fighting to greet them, and the newly born had no one to greet them at all.

But Jongdae and Sehun could not be bothered to look away from each other and pay the fighting any attention. All they did was hold each other, stay with each other until it was too late.

“Don’t spend the time we have left crying,” Jongdae said, brushing aside Sehun’s tears, “Or you’ll make me cry.”

“But how can I not?” Sehun said, holding Jongdae so tightly that it would’ve been hard to breathe, “How can I not when you could leave me any second?”

It was now that a minute felt like a second, and a second felt gone too soon, too quick to measure, too quick to feel.

“But I won’t leave now,” Jongdae said after taking a deep breath. He could not promise this, but he hoped that time would be kind to him and give him more than a second, more than a day. “See? Do you see any cracks of fire on my skin? Am I turning to ash?”

He could not feel anything else except for this pain, so he wondered if he’d ever know when it was time to end. Would he just go quietly, as if he was falling asleep? Would there be a pain more unimaginable than the pain he usually felt? One that would reach out to smother him one last time? Would he just go—

“No,” Sehun said, “But you might _soon_. What if you’re gone the next second? Gone before I can even say good-bye?”

“Then don’t say good-bye,” Jongdae said. He still had enough energy to reach out and brush Sehun’s bangs from his face so he could see his beautiful eyes. In this moment, he remembered something Sehun said what seemed like years ago and echoed his words. “We’re eternal, so we have time. Good-byes aren’t permanent. Just tell me hello again. Hello, hello, always hello. It’s always good to see you again.”

“Okay?” Jongdae said, gently wiping away a stray tear from Sehun’s face. Sehun nodded, and though he pressed his lips together tightly, he could not stop the tears that rained down his face.

Jongdae pushed Sehun’s head into his chest, cradled his head, and soothed him with hushed words. It was easier to reassure Sehun than it was to reassure himself after all. When Sehun pressed his face harder against Jongdae’s body, Jongdae finally let his face crumble, his expression fall, and tried to blink the tears away. He took a ragged breath and checked his hands to make sure that not a single crack of fire had appeared.

So this was how humans felt while they lived. It was terrifying, knowing there was an end. It was terrifying, not knowing when.

But that day passed without further heartbreak.

And the next.

And the next.

After a few months passed, Jongdae wondered if they’d get a year together. Years together. Maybe a century? That would be too lucky, and they were not that lucky. Because just as the third month was shy three days of turning into a fourth, time struck.

They never saw it coming.

The two of them were talking, murmuring among themselves until they closed their eyes and threw their heads back in laughter after Sehun said something amusing. It was by some cruel force that death chose that exact moment when Jongdae was laughing to take him.

It was a strong _no_ , a strangled _no_ , a striking _no_ that made Jongdae choke on his laugh, that made him blink open his eyes, ready to ask what was wrong. But he knew when he saw Sehun’s lip began to tremble, he knew when Sehun held him tighter and tighter in his arms, he knew when Sehun broke down into tears, loud sobs shaking his shoulders.

With his heart thumping in his chest, Jongdae slowly looked down at his arms and saw cracks of fire appearing on his skin, and as he turned his hands around, what remained began to turn to smoky ash. He stared at the ash, noticed how it began to drift away into the air, and allowed one single moment of panic, one strangled breath before he grabbed Sehun’s face in his hands. He could not be scared for Sehun even if he was. Oh, he was. What would it be like? If dead humans went here or to heaven, then where dead demons go? Oblivion? Nonbeing? But he pushed aside these worries and focused on what really mattered.

Sehun.

Because Sehun came first.

Always.

“Hey,” Jongdae softly said. He could not hide how his voice shook, but this was as strong as he could be in the moment. “Sehun. Look at me.”

“You can’t go,” Sehun shook his head wildly, “ _Please_. We’re supposed to be immortal…We shouldn’t have to die. You shouldn’t have to go.”

“But this is hell,” Jongdae said with a sigh, “When has it ever been kind to anyone here?”

“You’re _immortal_ ,” Sehun said, not willing to believe, “If you die, then what makes you any different from humans who come here or there, heaven or hell?”

“I’m immortal, so I’ll come back,” Jongdae said even as he coughed up smoke and bled fire, “It means that no matter how many times I die, it won’t be forever. Humans are so weak. You hurt them once, and they’re gone forever. Dead forever. Their final resting place is where we live. Strange isn’t it? I don’t know where I’ll go when my time is done, but I’ll come back every time the fire tears me apart. I’ll come back to you again.”

The fire in his hands burned brighter, consumed more of him, but he could not look at it now or he would lose himself.

“But I just _found_ you,” Sehun cried, holding him tighter and tighter, “What will I do when you’re gone?”

“I think,” Jongdae said gently, “I think that you should—”

But there was no more time left, and before they could exchange any last good-byes, Jongdae finally left, escaping through Sehun’s arms as what remained disappeared into the night, ash carried off by a gentle breeze that tousled Sehun’s hair one last time.

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

There was nothing to do and nothing else Sehun wanted to do except spend eternity waiting by the fire pit. Waiting was lonely, but Sehun was patient and would sit by the fires until it was Jongdae’s time to come back. Every second spent sitting among the ashes felt like a whole eternity, so the concept itself quickly lost meaning. Is this what immortality really was? Loneliness. Longing. The knowledge that Sehun could wait and wait and wait for something that would never come?

Every time the coals in the pit began to glow, Sehun shot up to his feet, bouncing on his toes as he watched the fires fly up into the sky. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and he always begged _please, please, please_ …It was terrible of him to want the fires to burn as quickly and often as possible. He wanted Jongdae, but if Jongdae did not appear, then it would have been as if he was excitedly anticipating a demon’s death.

It was hard to hide his disappointment every time he looked into the flames and didn’t see Jongdae at first.

Sehun would turn away, unwilling to look at the demons who were not Jongdae, who had taken Jongdae’s place. But when he heard them take their first strangled breath, he could not turn completely away and looked back.

“Are you okay?” Sehun would quietly ask.

Some of them thrashed about, choking even though they could breathe. Others stared at Sehun’s wings, the only light in the dark. Others would cry. Maybe it had been their first time dying. Regardless if they seemed fine or not, Sehun would reach out to comfort them, squeezing their shoulder, placing a hand on their arm. There was a war still raging, so no one had the time to welcome reborn demons anymore.

When they finally regained their orientation and readjusted to hell, the demons were met with countless questions.

“Have you seen Jongdae?” Sehun said, watching the demons carefully for any sign of knowledge, a glimmer of recognition, “Where you were…Was Jongdae there?”

There had to be a place Jongdae was right now. He couldn’t just be…nowhere. Gone forever.

“What did I miss?” some of them asked instead, coughing up ash after breathing too much of it, “How long has it been?”

“There’s a war,” Sehun said, “between Luhan’s side and Lucifer’s side. But that’s not important. Do you know Jongdae? Have you seen Jongdae? I’m waiting for him here until he comes back.”

Most of them left without even another word to Sehun, brushing off the ash from their body before disappearing into the night. Others would tell him no. The kinder ones patted Sehun’s shoulder before they left. Where they went, back to the war or back to the humans, Sehun never knew. He hoped for their sakes he would never see them here again.

Every time the fires soared higher and higher, confining Sehun into the circle, he felt as if he was almost thrust into the cage again. The fires were too close that it was hard to breathe sometimes, but far enough that Sehun wouldn’t die like this. But no matter what he felt or how the fires seemed, he would not leave this ashy pit until Jongdae came back to him.

And one day, when the coals exploded, shooting up flames that could’ve brushed against the moon, Sehun, with his heart beating in his chest, looked towards the ashes and hoped who his heart burned for would rise.

A smaller fire abruptly ignited in the center of the pit, and after the flames slowly diminished as time passed, someone remained. Sehun fell to his knees and gazed upon straight eyebrows. Striking cheekbones. Curved lips.

And with his heart lurching in his chest, he reached forwards to grab the fire in his hands before it could be extinguished again.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Jongdae awoke after his first death with a strangled gasp, arms writhing around the ground, his fingernails scraping the ash from the floor. It felt as if he had just resurfaced after being submerged in water, like he had just taken his first breath after something squeezed his throat and suffocated his chest, like he had been buried under a mountain of ash and finally clawed his way out.

Before he had time to react, pain greeted him again, overwhelming and terrible just how he remembered it. But as he let out a groan, the pain immediately dulled when he felt hands touch him.

“ _Jongdae_ ,” he heard Sehun cry out. Jongdae tried to shake the disorienting feeling as he jerked his head around, looking for Sehun.

“I’m _here_ ,” Sehun said, almost shouted, “You’re going to be fine. I’m here. We’re together again.”

Jongdae blinked, noticed a golden light keeping the darkness at bay, and saw Sehun hovering above him. Same soft lips. Same beautiful eyes. Same golden wings. Same sweet heart.

“Sehun,” Jongdae said, his throat feeling dry. He stopped thrashing about and lay limp, feeling exhausted. “Hello again.”

 _“Hello_ ,” Sehun said, lifting Jongdae up and pulling him onto his lap. Sehun then held him tightly, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Jongdae leaned his cheek on Sehun’s head and gazed around. He tried to figure out what he had missed, but he only saw the same sights, the same fire, the same darkness.

“I missed you,” Sehun said, rocking them back and forth. His voice sounded muffled from where he spoke, the sound reverberating through Jongdae’s chest. “You were gone so long.”

“How long was I gone?” Jongdae said. How long had he been dead?

Silence.

Then an answer.

“Half a year,” Sehun said.

“Half a year?” Jongdae said, clutching at Sehun like he was drowning. He wildly checked his hands to make sure that there were no fires, no smoke, no ashes. He could not go again. He could not die again.

“Half a year,” Jongdae repeated, feeling it hard to breathe. Maybe it was the collar. Maybe it was the pain. “I’m so sorry, Sehun. I wish I could’ve come back to you sooner.”

“No, no,” Sehun shook his head, looking so intently at Jongdae as if he was afraid this would be the last time again, “I’ll wait every time you go. Don’t worry about me. You’re the one who suffers the most.”

“I have to go…again,” Jongdae said, gasping for air, breathing in and out faster and faster. “How many times will I have to die? How many times will we be apart?”

He gripped Sehun tighter and tighter, hysteria beginning to set in. This time he hid his face in Sehun’s shoulder and cried. It was hard to breathe, and he fought for every breath in case it might be his last.

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, rubbing his back, “I am so sorry. I am so sorry hell’s given you such a fate. I wish I could die with you, or at least die in your place, so—”

“No,” Jongdae forcefully said, snapping his head up to look at Sehun, his red eyes glowing darker. “You can’t.”

He had tried to be brave last time so Sehun would not be more alone. But he had felt so afraid himself, and it was only now that the paused panic and delayed dread struck him.

“You don’t want to die, Sehun,” Jongdae said, rambling through quick inhales and strangled exhales, “No wonder humans are so afraid. Who likes waiting for the end? The time between the moment you know you’re dying and the moment you’re dead is the worst. It’s so hard to breathe, it’s so hard to leave. Who wants to go when it’s the end? We have eternity, but we’re not eternal.”

He didn’t want to die again. Not again…The knowledge that this was the end was so paralyzing, and Jongdae wished he could have gone while they were asleep so he wouldn’t have to know. When.

“Then what’s the point,” Sehun shook his head, his lower lip beginning to waver again, “What’s the point of being an angel, a demon, if you have to die like any common human? We’re better than this. You deserve better than this.”

“I don’t know,” Jongdae admitted, “I guess nothing can last. Not us, not any human. But I’ll rise from the ashes again and again to find you.”

“And I’ll wait for you again and again,” Sehun said, pressing a kiss to Jongdae’s cheek, “no matter how many years pass.”

If there were a day when they’d part, there would be a day in the future when they’d meet again. That was the promise of eternity, no matter how cruel it was.

After that, neither of them had the energy to sit up, let alone stand. Sehun, too, would not let go of Jongdae even if it hurt, so they lay on the ground in each other’s arms. They remained like that for how long, no one knew. Maybe a few months. Maybe a year.

“What was it like?” Sehun asked after much time had passed.

Jongdae could feel Sehun’s gaze upon him, watching for any signs of discomfort. He knew Sehun would stop if he seemed upset, but he needed to talk, so he looked up at the red moon and answered.

“I don’t remember actually,” Jongdae said, holding out his hand to pretend he touched the moon. Tonight, it was only a little sliver in the sky. “There was so much pain, and then nothing. So many tears, and then nothing. So much life, and then. Nothing.”

It was true. It was like he was being torn apart and put back together in his last moments again and again and again even though he was not aware of it.

“What did time feel like to you?” Sehun asked, “Between then and now?”

“Like a second,” Jongdae answered, “It was like I fell asleep and woke up like I would wake up after a deep sleep.”

“My half a year felt like a millennium,” Sehun sighed, stretching his arm upwards so he could hold the moon with Jongdae. “It’s too bad hell isn’t a kind place.”

“Hell will be a good place when it freezes,” Jongdae said. So never.

When Sehun didn’t respond, Jongdae lay on his side to look at him, noticing the weary expression on his face.

“We can’t do this again…We can’t be like this every time because I don’t want to go like how I went last time,” Jongdae said, touching Sehun’s cheek, “seeing you so unhappy.”

“But it’s so hard,” Sehun sighed, “I don’t want to live with a clock in the back of my head counting down to the time when you’re gone, but I can’t help it. There will be a day when you will have to leave again.”

With a jolt, Jongdae felt a familiar feeling curl up in his body, but he didn’t know if he was being too paranoid. He had only felt this one time after all, so he was not yet accustomed to it completely. He was not sure if this was the end even if it began to feel like it.

“Then stay strong,” Jongdae said, ignoring what he felt, “We’ll have to stay strong because there’s nothing else we can possibly be.”

Sehun’s eyes widened as he noticed something on Jongdae’s face, and he let out a shout and held onto Jongdae as tightly as he could. Jongdae looked down at his hands, wondering what could it be, and let out a laugh. Of course.

Sehun’s shoulders shook, but as if remembering what Jongdae had said, pressed his lips together and tried to be strong. Jongdae was breaking inside, but for Sehun, he would not panic. For Sehun, he would smile.

“Next time,” Jongdae smiled. He could feel his body disappearing into ash, the fire burning through his heart, and knew his time was almost done. “I’ll tell you some stories from when I was younger.”

“Next time,” Sehun smiled though his eyes swam with tears already. This would be their one, final beautiful moment before this end. “I’d like that very much. I’d love that, Jongdae. I love y—”

But it was too late. The fire had turned to ash, the smoke burned Sehun’s eyes, and Jongdae was gone. Sehun waited for a second in silence before the smile dropped from his face, his wings drooped, and he let out a terrible scream that echoed so loudly that hell stopped to listen. Demons around the area stopped their fighting to wonder what had happened to cause such a scream. The dead lifted their heads towards the sky, wondering if they were the ones that had screamed or not. Luhan, who was fighting near the area at this time, knew instantly what that cry meant, and with a scream of his own, wild and furious enough to make the demon he fought freeze for a second, charged forwards. That second was enough for Luhan to impale his sword straight through the demon’s heart and turn him into ash.

Some humans believed that time would come to an end one day, a day when all, alive and dead, would be judged one final time. Sehun didn’t know if that was true, but it didn’t matter because Jongdae’s death felt like the end of time even if it was only the time of an end.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Sehun’s wings shone through anything, but even they were not immune to time. Sehun sat by the fire for so long that the ashes began to coat his wings. The soot was not thick enough to completely conceal the golden shine of his wings, but little gray and black spots still stained them. There were demons who saw Sehun’s ashy wings and wondered if he was a Lu. But that couldn’t be, because what Lu shone this bright even in these hours of darkness?

The demons who were not from Luhan’s court and who did not know Sehun did not harm him even after taking one look at his wings. They let him stay, walk around the circles, and wait unharmed. Some even curiously waited with him, but when the dullness of eternity smothered them, they disappeared and sank into the night. Sehun didn’t know those demons, and he didn’t expect to see anyone knew.

But once when he stared at the fires hoping for Jongdae but expecting a face he didn’t know, he found ruby red eyes that gleamed brighter than any gem and gasped.

“Sunmi?” he cried out, hands reaching to embrace her.

Sunmi gasped, reeling around the ash.

"I died?” she said, unable to do more as Sehun helped her sit.

“Why else would you be here?” Sehun asked, checking her for any injuries. But she had just been reborn, after all, so there was no blemish, no wound he could find.

“I died?” she said, her breath hitching up in her throat, “the only thing I remember was fighting and falling.”

“I’m sorry,” Sehun said. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t let Luhan hear you say that,” Sunmi said, her shoulders slumping, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m just not as good as a fighter.”

Sehun reached out to comfort her, to hold her in his arms until she could breathe comfortably again. But as soon as she seemed fine, Sehun wasted no time in asking, in hoping.

“Did you see Jongdae after you fell?” Sehun asked, “Is he somewhere where you just awoke from?”

Sunmi paused to think and reached out to grasp Sehun’s hands.

“No,” she said, and Sehun’s heart broke, “I couldn’t remember anything, really. There was nothing. I couldn’t even see Jongdae.”

Sehun felt his wings droop behind his back, and he let out a long sigh. He was waiting for Jongdae, but waiting for him to come back from where? But it was selfish of him to only think of Jongdae, so he saved those thoughts for another time and turned back to Sunmi.

“I don’t want to see you here,” Sehun said, and before Sunmi could reply, he continued, “not like this. If you want to visit me, do so. But don’t come to me from the fire. Don’t die.”

“I won’t,” Sunmi said, shaking her head rapidly, “But I’ll come visit you in between fighting, okay? You can’t be alone.”

She stayed a little while longer to keep Sehun company, chattering as she sat next to him and traced swirling patterns in the ashes. It was better this way, waiting together with someone. Sehun made her promise she wouldn’t die again before she left him with a smile and a kiss on his forehead.

It was too bad she couldn’t keep her promise.

Sehun didn’t expect to see her so soon, back in the fire pit five days later. He bit his lip, searching for any injuries he could heal, asking if she was okay. And when the shock wore off, he asked again.

“Sehun, there’s really nothing,” Sunmi said as she stared up at the moon without blinking, “I’m sorry, but I didn’t see anything. I didn’t see Jongdae there.”

Sehun turned away to hide his disappointment. He shouldn’t have expected a different answer from a place like this.

“Don’t let Luhan hear you say that,” Sehun said with a sigh, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m just not good at living without Jongdae.”

“Oh, Sehun,” Sunmi said and blinked ash out of her eyes before sitting up and taking him in her arms. “You have a place here. You’re not just Sehun, the love of Jongdae’s existence. You’re Sehun, a sweet angel with a heart better and bigger and brighter than hell deserves.”

“Really?” Sehun asked. The flames beside them glowed, and after a few moments, a new demon reappeared, reborn in the ashes. This one screamed and cried about, thrashing in the ash.

Sehun quickly grasped their hand and spoke to them in a hushed voice, reassuring them that they were okay, they could breathe now, they were back in hell.

“Really,” Sunmi smiled as she watched him.

Sunmi stayed as long as she could, but after a while and no sign of Jongdae, back to the war she went. She’d come back in a year, reborn from the ashes. Each time, she promised that she wouldn’t die again, but she always did.

But Yeri never died.

She was quick enough, cunning enough to escape death. It seemed she really did have a way out of everything, but not a way out of this for Jongdae. Sehun never met her in the fire pit, curling up in the ashes, but she sometimes visited when she remembered.

“We’re firebound, too,” she said one day, waiting with Sehun by the fire. Her hands were stained with blood, but she assured him she was not hurt. Sehun held her hand anyways just in case.

“Can you stay with me until he comes back this time?” Sehun asked.

“I can’t,” Yeri said, “I have to go back soon. The sooner the war is over, the sooner Jongdae will be free.”

“That’s all he ever wanted,” Sehun said, his vision suddenly blurring, “Why has it taken this long for that?”

“That’s false,” Yeri said, keeping her gaze forwards. “He wanted Luhan free of his throne. He wanted only the best for his family. And he wants you. Why else would he fight this hard to live even with that collar around his neck?”

“Yeri,” Sehun hoarsely said, feeling like his heart would break, “Can you do what you did again? Cut me open and take out my heart? I don’t want to be conscious when I’m waiting for him. Take out my heart and only put it back in my chest when Jongdae comes back. Kill me.”

Yeri quickly turned, eyes widening as she listened to his words. Her hands hovered around his face, and was about to touch his cheek before she remembered her hands were bloody and dropped them to her lap. Sehun wouldn’t have minded either way.

“No,” Yeri firmly said, “I can’t do that ever again, Sehun, so forget it.”

“Then ask Luhan to kill me,” Sehun said. He didn’t think, just let the words tumble out from his lips. “Ask him to rip out my heart. If you won’t do it, then Luhan would.”

Yeri shifted.

“I’ll ask,” she said, “But even if he took out your heart, who would keep it safe? We’re all fighting out there, so what if Lucifer took it from one of us? Your heart is only safe with your own self, safe with Jongdae.”

Sehun finally burst into tears, and it was Yeri’s turn to hold him as he screamed at the fire and cursed the coals for not bringing him Jongdae faster.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“Did you know that I was a terrible demon when I was younger,” Jongdae said after he had coughed out the smoke from his lungs and took his first clean breath of air after his next rebirth. After their hellos were said, kisses were exchanged, and they lapsed comfortably back into each other’s embrace. They gave no time to mourn, to worry about the future. Jongdae didn’t want that anymore. He didn’t want tears when there could be joy, frowns when there could be happiness, and the future when they lived in the present. So he changed the subject, immediately cutting to what he promised last time before they had time to think too hard about what would come.

“Really,” Sehun said with a smile, “How?”

“Luhan was a terrible influence,” Jongdae said, “but we were worse together. Our tiny selves, no taller than some fully-grown demons’ knee, would pick fights with everyone or start fights between other demons and watch…There were some days Luhan’s father used to tear his hair out and hope to scare Luhan out of his antics. ‘You’re killing your father. Just look at this gray hair you made me have. And these wrinkles!’ he used to say.”

That didn’t make Luhan fear death. Only wrinkles.

“When did you grow out of it?” Sehun asked.

“Maybe I never did,” Jongdae admitted, “I started the fight between Jorge and Luhan, didn’t I? And what’s Luhan doing now? Picking a fight with Lucifer. We never learned.”

“Well, you picked fights for better reasons,” Sehun said, “so your hearts changed for the better.”

“What about you?” Jongdae asked, pulling himself out of the past, “What were you like when you were younger? A tiny angel running around outshining the others?”

“Not to be stereotypical, but heaven has an angel choir,” Sehun said, reaching over to hold Jongdae’s hand and play with his fingers, “at least when I was there.”

“Hell is on fire,” Jongdae said, “Lucifer’s terrible. Feel free to be as stereotypical as you want.”

“Well,” Sehun said, finally lacing his fingers through Jongdae’s, “When I was younger, no one could make me sing. I just…shut my mouth and refused.”

“Shame,” Jongdae said, trying not to make his voice sound strained as a sudden burst of pain seared through his body, “But I guess the others weren’t ready to be blessed by your voice.”

Sehun let out a sparkling laugh, and Jongdae almost forgot that there was an iron collar around his neck, forgot that he was doomed to die countless times for eternity, doomed to be ripped from Sehun’s side again and again.

“So, they made me join orchestra. Me, a baby…Everyone rotated instruments, so could you imagine my tiny self struggling to even know what to do with a cello? Much less play it?”

Jongdae closed his eyes and pictured a little angel struggling to hold up a cello before giving up and flying around on tiny wings while waving the giant bow in the air. His lips curled up as he thought of what the rest of Sehun’s life there must have been like. Before everything went wrong. Before everything became right.

“Honestly,” Jongdae said, quieter now, “Tell me honestly. Do you ever miss it?”

“I do,” Sehun said after a pause, “I do…I miss my friends. I wonder where they are now, why none of them looked for me. Maybe they just weren’t allowed. I don’t know. I miss the music, I miss the souls I took care of, and I miss the light.”

Jongdae was about to apologize that they couldn’t give him that here, no light, no sweet, angelic music. But this was hell. And there were no sorries here.

“But I don’t miss heaven,” Sehun said, “there’s nowhere to hide since everything’s white. And if you thought demons were terrifying, then you should have seen the higher ranked angels. They don’t even look like us or humans anymore…just like perfectly symmetrical circles and shapes all melded together with blinking eyes. The perfect golden ratio. At that point, perfection’s just terrifying. And why would I miss a place that let me go? Did nothing when they could have reached into hell and plucked me out? No. I don’t miss them at all.”

“If I ever somehow claw my way there,” Jongdae said, “I’ll ruin their symmetry and wreak havoc. Their ears will pray for silence after I list every single thing they did wrong and every single reason why they didn’t deserve you.”

“Oh, no,” Sehun shook his head with another laugh, “Don’t waste your energy. It’s not worth it.”

All of a sudden, Jongdae felt a renewed jolt of pain that caused him to grit his teeth, though not before a groan escaped from his lips. Sehun echoed the sound and squeezed his eyes. It was terrible, how Sehun had to feel this. It was inexplicable, how Sehun chose to suffer this for Jongdae. With his heart leaping in his throat, Jongdae looked down at his hands, and sighed in relief when he saw no fire.

Another bolt of pain struck them, and there was no time for conversation, no time to even look at each other. There was only time for silence, time to survive, time to endure. Jongdae couldn’t remember hurting this badly before it was his time to go.

Maybe it was time.

Maybe it was too much to hope for more than an hour, more than a minute, more than a second. But this time, he prayed to whoever, whatever was listening, for just one more day with Sehun. Just one more day.

And this time, he held on for one more year.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Sometimes, Sehun met Joy. She had lasted longer and escaped death longer than Sunmi, but after Sehun saw the flames and rushed out, he hadn’t expected to see her the first time.

She took her first breath violently, letting out a scream, a wail as she clawed at the ground. Sehun instantly tried to comfort her, whispering soothing words and hushed reassurances to her. He gathered her into his arms, stroked her hair until she finally calmed. There was a moment of silence before she pressed her face harder against Sehun’s shoulder and began to weep.

“I understand why my dead are like that now,” she said between tears, her voice muffled, “What a terrible experience it must’ve been for them…What they endured, and for what…to end up here?”

He didn’t mind that Joy skipped straight to what she needed to say without even a hello. It was better this way. The greeting was implicit in the way they embraced, the way he comforted her.

“I don’t understand at all,” Sehun said after a pause. He knew that Joy’s dead were here because they chose, but he didn’t have the heart to remind her that. “I want to go where I can’t. I want to go where Jongdae is. Why can’t I follow him there?”

“Sehun,” Joy said, grasping Sehun’s shoulders and lifting her face up, “just wait. Don’t die. It’s terrible, a terrible experience. Jongdae will come back to you.”

“I will,” Sehun said, something flaring up inside of him, “I have been waiting.”

And he would wait until Jongdae would come back to him, wait until the day that they would both be free, wait for the day they’d find some place, neither heaven nor hell, where they could both be.

“How long has it been?” Joy asked, sniffling. She wiped away the last of her tears and moved to sit beside him. “Since the last time?”

Sehun only sighed and stared up at the bloody sky. He didn’t answer, and Joy knew. Long enough. One day apart was too long, especially knowing where Jongdae had gone. One minute was too long, especially since he didn’t know if Jongdae’s collar still pained him wherever he went. One second was too long, especially since this was hell and hell was not kind to anyone.

“I don’t try to remember the time that passes,” Sehun said at last. Joy reached out to hold his hand. “I’d rather think about the time that remains between now and the next time I’ll see Jongdae. Will it be this second? This next minute?”

“Isn’t that the same time?” Joy said, “You’re only counting backwards rather than forwards.”

“It seems like a shorter time if I count backwards,” Sehun said. He pulled his hand out of Joy’s grasp to hug his knees to his chest. For a second, he wanted to fold his wings behind his back, but he kept them spread out just in case Jongdae would come back soon and needed some light.

“But you still add time when you count backwards,” Joy said, “You can never go backwards. Only forwards.”

Sehun sighed and rubbed his face in his hands.

“Three years and three months,” Sehun said at last, “Jongdae was alive three years and three months ago.”

“Oh, Sehun,” Joy said, rushing to embrace him again. It was funny, how the first time Sehun met them, they all swore they didn’t care. If this was them not caring, then Sehun wondered what they thought caring was. “Are you okay? Have you eaten? When was the last time you slept?”

“Three tears and three months ago,” Sehun said, a wry smile twisting up his lips, “But it’s okay. We don’t need to sleep, really. We only sleep if we feel like resting, if we feel like passing time by quickly.”

“Oh, no,” Joy said, clucking her tongue, “Then you must sleep! Sleep now! Sleep…I’m sure you must be exhausted.”

“No,” Sehun said, “What if Jongdae comes back when I’m sleeping? He can’t wake up alone…feel all that pain alone.”

“Sleep,” Joy insisted, dragging Sehun down and making him rest his head in her lap. She stroked his hair softly. “I’ll watch for you this time. And when he comes back, I’ll wake you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sehun murmured, and as he shut his eyes, only then did he realize how exhausted he was.

Jongdae came to him in his dreams immediately, looking as beautiful as always. No one spoke, and Jongdae’s lips moved without sound. In this dream, they appeared to each other with their chests bare, their tattoos golden. In this dream, Sehun had no wings, and Jongdae had no shadows.

Was this it? Somewhere they could both be free? Sehun looked around, but there was only white space. This could not be heaven, so had hell frozen?

Jongdae said a few words, the sound still lost, but Sehun read his lips and smiled. He hadn’t heard Jongdae say those words out loud when he was alive, but it was okay. He knew what his heart sang to him every day anyways. Sehun reached out to hold him and caught him in his arms. But before he could kiss him, he awoke with a gasp, finding his hands empty, his heart bleeding and burning, and his lips tasting like ash.

 

 

ϟ 

           

 

One day, Jongdae jolted awake, reborn out of the fire, brought not back by time, but by the horrible realization that he had never echoed Sehun’s words back. He felt hands touch him, kisses pressed on his cheeks, and despite the pain, Jongdae was ready to say, to yell what he had felt this whole entire time.     

“I love you.”

“And I love you.”

“Forever until the end of time.”

“I’ll take your pain and make it mine.”

But Jongdae wasn’t done yet, not even in the very least.

Maybe the effort was too much, but Jongdae hated that. He loved, so why was it this hard to say he loved? He would love until it killed him, and it did. And it would. He felt it coming again, the light blinking out of his eyes, the strength leaving his body. He wanted to scream, unleash a wild fury that he had just been here, just gotten here, so he should have more time with Sehun. He deserved all the time with Sehun. But instead, he sagged, leaned into Sehun’s arms, and used the rest of his energy, the rest of his life to say what he had felt because Sehun needed to know again and again and again.

“I love you, Sehun.”

“I love you, too, Jongdae, I—“

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

“What’s this? Give me a chance to say it right ba—”

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

A laugh. A delighted laugh. He’d hold onto it when he passed.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

He saw the realization strike his angel now, panic cloud his countenance, desperation stab his heart. He felt hands gripping him harder, but it didn’t matter how hard he was held onto. He had to go. Time to go.

With the last seconds of life left, he screamed and loved his heart out.

“I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOV—”

 

 

ϟ 

 

 

“Luhan says no,” Yeri said the next time she visited Sehun.

“I guess I’m stuck here,” Sehun said with a chuckle, “alive.”

“You better stay alive,” Yeri said, sitting down beside him, “What if Jongdae comes back and you’re not there?”

“It’s not fair,” Sehun said, tracing patterns in the sand, “I have to wait so long, but it only feels like a second for him.”

“No,” Sehun shook his head after he realized what he had just said, “That’s selfish. Never mind. I take it back.”

Jongdae was the one who died after all. Sehun only had to wait.

“You’re in hell, Sehun,” Yeri said, “You’re allowed to be selfish and to feel that it’s unfair.”

Sehun sighed and turned to look at her. After noticing a cut on her cheek and her arm bent oddly, he took her hand and held on tightly just in case she’d try to snatch it away.

“Thank you,” Yeri said, sighing as she gripped Sehun’s hand tighter with her good hand.

“Don’t let yourself get hurt,” Sehun said, “pull a magic card or do a trick and disappear before anyone has the chance to harm you. Okay?”

Yeri promised. Unlike Sunmi who broke her promises and died faster than Sehun mourned, Sehun believed that Yeri would be fine alone.

“How’s the war going?” Sehun asked, “Is Luhan any closer to winning? Is Jongdae any closer to being free?”

He hadn’t seen Luhan even once, not flying above him, not appearing to him in the fire, and he hoped that was a good sign.

“Luhan is trying,” Yeri said.

“Well, it’s not good enough,” Sehun suddenly snapped. “Jongdae’s still trapped. Luhan is still on the throne. Lucifer’s still alive.” He could not help the sharpness in his voice and only softened his glare when he saw Yeri smile.

“What?” he asked.

“Stay angry,” Yeri said, “Time won’t change for the meek.”

“I’ve been angry,” Sehun said. But he couldn’t bear it since it made him weak.

He couldn’t think clearly when he was angry, and he made impulsive decisions when fire burned his heart for the wrong reasons. It was better to stay calm, to smother out the fury and breathe. And wait.

“What even is Luhan’s strategy anyways?” Sehun asked, balling his hands up into fists, “I saw Jongdae kill Lucifer, so why couldn’t anyone else?”

“Because no one is like Jongdae,” Yeri said, “No one has endured as much as he had and still stood back up every time he fell.”

The mention of Jongdae made Sehun hide his face in his hands, his shoulders slumping.

“Luhan wants to know how many times Jongdae’s died already,” Yeri added after a moment of silence. Her voice cracked at the end of the sentence.

Sehun knew it would hurt to count the amount of times, but he did it anyways. He remembered anyways, even if it killed to remember.

“A hundred and three,” he said as composedly as he could, “Why?”

“That’s the amount of times he’ll stab Lucifer when he catches him,” Yeri said, “So update me with a new number every time I come back.”

“Oh, I will,” Sehun said, grateful for the anger that distracted him from everything, “Tell him to kill him, too.”

Yeri promised.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, “You always break your promises.”

“Why?” Jongdae said, “Which one?”

“You promised you wouldn’t leave me,” Sehun said, taking a sharp inhale. 

“I’m sorry,” Jongdae said, “I really am.”

How terrible it must’ve been for Sehun to have been left behind all alone for who knew how long. Jongdae was gone for what felt like a second, maybe a few seconds some other times when he woke groggily. But Sehun had to pass time, endure its pains all alone. Jongdae’s second was Sehun’s century. 

“No,” Sehun said, shaking his head quickly, “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m so sorry…You can’t control anything. You don’t die because you want to. You’re not hurt because you wanted it.”

“I could say the same for you,” Jongdae said, “You didn’t have to, and you shouldn’t have to.”

“No,” Sehun said, “But you know why.”

Jongdae sighed, leaning into Sehun. The pain was more bearable today.

“Is Luhan near?” he asked, “I haven’t seen him in…forever.”

The others had visited when Jongdae was alive every now and then. A simple hello one day, another visit another day. But Luhan never came.

“No, he’s still fighting,” Sehun said, “The war hasn’t progressed.”

“At this rate, he’ll win when hell freezes,” Jongdae let out a soft laugh.

“Then why doesn’t he just snap his fingers and make it snow?” Sehun asked, “He can if he wants.”

“But hell has never been cold,” Jongdae said.

“Then if I were a Lu, I’d make hell a frozen wasteland,” Sehun said so determinedly that Jongdae studied his expression to see if he was serious.

“Then how will demons be born and reborn?” Jongdae asked, “Would the fire pit work if everything was frozen? Demons need fire to live.”

“Isn’t there another way?” Sehun asked, “You’re immortal, so you shouldn’t have to die and come back in the fire again and again and again.”

“Have I ever told you an old rhyme demons pass on to each other?” Jongdae asked. Sehun shook his head, so Jongdae recited it as perfectly as he had heard it the first time all those years ago.

 

            “From ashes we’re born,

            To the light we yearn,

            But when all is over and done,

            To the fire we always return.”

 

“Jongdae,” Sehun said, “you never told me you could sing.”

“There were more important things to talk about,” Jongdae said.

“It took me a couple thousand years for me to know this,” Sehun said, pressing a hand to his forehead, “We have so much time, and yet there’s still so much we haven’t done, things we still don’t know.”

“We have time,” Jongdae sighed, “There’s no rush.”

“Okay,” Sehun said, “then let’s take that time. What’s your favorite food? What’s your favorite color? Do you fight with both hands, or do you prefer using your right? W—”

“Why all these questions now?” Jongdae asked. 

“Well. It’s not like we have anything else to do,” Sehun said.

And Jongdae laughed.

Cried. 

Died.

 

 

ϟ

 

 

After a couple thousand years had passed, Sehun realized that he had finally found his place in hell. When Jongdae was here, Sehun’s place was by his side. When Jongdae wasn’t, it was by the fire pit. And when some other demon showed up in the fire, Sehun would tend to them, making sure they readjusted to life properly, making sure that they knew they weren’t alone, making sure that they weren’t afraid before he sent them off. When Sehun had a heart this big, it would have been a shame if he had no one to share it with.

Even if demons quickly realized he was not from here, no one bothered him. Other times, some would keep him company, bringing him food when he forgot to eat, water when he forgot to drink, and stayed to watch in his place when he forgot to sleep. Most of these demons were the ones he had known from Luhan’s castle, but other times a few stray dead souls straggled into the fire pit.

They’d shield their eyes with their hands because of the light and slowly edge into the rings of fire until they crowded around Sehun. Sehun didn’t know what they wanted at first. Many of them pointed into the fire, gesturing wildly at the coals.

“Me, too,” Sehun said, “I want them to burn, too.”

The dead only gestured more violently, their faces twisting up into dark expressions. Their mouths opened, and some began to shriek.

“You can’t go back,” Sehun said, trying to understand what they wanted, “I’m sorry, but that’s not how it works. You can’t come back to life or go back to the earth.”

Or wherever else the fires led.

The dead only screeched louder, causing Sehun to wince. It was only when the fires began to burn that the dead quieted and drifted closer towards the flames. When the fire died down, revealing a different demon, one Sehun had never met before, the dead shook their heads.

Sehun tended to the new demon who was screaming after seeing so many of the dead up close. After the demon fled, the dead pointed back at the fire again.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Sehun asked.

The dead stared blankly. Sehun took that as a yes.

“I’m waiting for someone, too,” Sehun said, sitting back down, “His name is Jongdae.”

At the mention of Jongdae’s name, the dead looked at each other before they threw their heads back and wailed.

“That’s been the mood,” Sehun muttered as he watched them tear at their hair, clutch their faces. Maybe these were the dead souls Jongdae looked after before they were taken from him. Jongdae had never told him what type of dead they were, but Sehun could guess.

Word seemed to travel faster through the fields than Sehun thought, and after a while, more and more dead ambled to the fire pit. They all waited together, Sehun talking to them about anything and everything while the dead nodded in silence.

Sometimes, he was impatient and yelled at the moon to bring Jongdae back to him. The dead joined him and raised their voices, shrieking and shaking their bony fists at the sky. During these times, no one would even dare to venture near the pit, fearing the dissonant cacophony that would echo throughout the surrounding area.

But finally, after too much time passed, when the fires ignited this time, Sehun saw a familiar face and reached forth to touch the flames.

“Hello,” Sehun said, struggling to keep his voice level, “Hello again. You have new visitors this time.”

The dead pushed forwards, peering at the new demon, and when they recognized him, they let out a scream. Sehun had all of forever, so he let them embrace Jongdae first.

Eternity granted them with five months together this time anyways.  

 

 

ϟ

 

 

“Do you ever think about how easy it would be to give up?” Sehun asked a few weeks after Jongdae came back to him again.

“All the time,” Jongdae admitted, “I think about it all the time.”

He shifted his body, adjusting himself so he could rest his head on Sehun’s arm.

“It’s too much,” Sehun said, “I don’t know how much more you can possibly endure.”

“We,” Jongdae corrected, “We’re both suffering.”

“What would happen if we really did give up?” Sehun asked, “What would become of us?”

“I think I would stay dead longer,” Jongdae said, “I know I can’t control it, but there would’ve been no reason for me to hurry back to life if you weren’t here.”

“I think I would’ve left hell,” Sehun admitted, “if you faded permanently. It’s a good thing you’re immortal, you know? I would’ve left to find a different place that wouldn’t remind me of you when I look at the sky. Somewhere kinder, somewhere we would’ve been happy together.”

“There’s still time,” Jongdae sighed, “We just have to be patient. Maybe Luhan’s close to beating Lucifer,” Jongdae said.

But they both fell silent when they realized the truth. Luhan wasn’t any closer to defeating Lucifer than he was the first few months. It was hard to fight Lucifer, harder to fight time.

“At least he hasn’t died,” Sehun said.

“At least,” Jongdae said, “But he hasn’t visited once.”

Jongdae didn’t need to say what he felt for Sehun to understand.

“Hopefully he’ll come soon and say hello,” Sehun said.

“He wouldn’t come unless the war is over,” Jongdae said. He was certain of this. “So if we’re stuck like this forever, then I won’t ever see him again. He’ll stop fighting when he wins, or he’ll stop when hell freezes. There’s no other way.”

“He’ll win,” Sehun said, “He has to. He’s fighting for both of you.”

Jongdae hummed in response.

“Have you thought about where you want to go after this?” Jongdae said, “Somewhere both of us can be free, right?”

But he didn’t want to be too optimistic. This was hell after all.

“Maybe I shouldn’t talk about this,” Jongdae said, taking back his words, “It seems unlikely. An eternity like this…We’ll be free when hell freezes.”

Sehun saw the light dimming from Jongdae’s eyes. There was no fire, no smoke, no ash splitting apart Jongdae’s skin, but Sehun held on tighter anyways. Time could not be changed. How someone felt could. But Sehun always felt the same regardless of the years that passed. If anyone were to take a peek into his heart, they’d find that his heart glowed brighter than his wings ever could, the rays of light peeking out of his smile, radiating through the comfort he offered as he held Jongdae. There was no need to look for that place now. He was certain that one day they could find it after this was all over. But for now, Sehun would not lose hope. He had never lost hope when he was suffocating in that cage, and if he could survive that eternity, then he would survive this eternity. It was not a question of when, but how. How would they be freed at last. Who would free them at last.

“No,” Sehun said, “When hell frees us.”

 

 

ϟ

 

 

Hell didn’t free them for years and years and years, so they didn’t see it coming until now was the moment and today was the day. Why would they when they had suffered for so long? Jongdae died five hundred and thirty-nine times. Sehun lost Jongdae five-hundred and thirty-nine times. Sehun was unable to do anything but cry and desperately hold onto the ashes as Jongdae slipped through his fingers and burned away five hundred and thirty-nine times. Maybe it was easier to focus on the numbers, add an extra tally, increase the count by one every time because if they measured existence by life rather than death, existence rather than waiting and oblivion, then it might as well have been an eternity.

An eternity could not be measured, but demons did so anyways, marking time by who ruled hell. Lucifer’s eternity. Lucille’s eternity. DVB’s eternity. Luhan’s father’s eternity. Luhan’s eternity. But to Sehun, though he had been there for all, he only knew three eternities. Lucifer’s cage. Meeting Jongdae. Losing Jongdae.

But before five hundred and thirty-nine had a chance to become five hundred and forty, Luhan finally flew down to meet his other half while Sunmi, Yeri, and Joy trailed after him.

“Did you win?” Jongdae weakly asked as he saw Luhan land on his toes and ruffle his feathers. “Is that why you’re here?”

Luhan never visited him all this time, as he believed that any moment he didn’t spend fighting was a moment he could lose. If Jongdae never had a single respite from this torment, then Luhan wouldn’t either.

Luhan knelt by Jongdae and glanced at Sehun who held Jongdae and greeted him with a smile before he took Jongdae’s hand in his.

“I lost,” Luhan said, and Jongdae blinked once before tightening his grasp on Luhan’s hand.

“They’ll punish you,” Jongdae said, the collar feeling more constricting than before, “What are you doing? Run.”

“What, like a coward?” Luhan laughed, “I fight to win, but this time maybe I lost because I was fighting for you and me.” 

Luhan had fought to change time, but of course time itself could not be changed. Hell was not that kind. Luhan was not as powerful as he needed to be.

“What will happen now?” Jongdae said, looking around him as if he expected to see Lucifer charging towards them, prepared to slaughter everyone loyal to Luhan. But there was no sign of Lucifer, no unfamiliar faces. Just Yeri. Sunmi. Joy behind them. All looked distressed. Joy was crying. Something was wrong.

“Well, it turns out we get all we want,” Luhan said, “Jae betrayed me…that fucker. Lucifer tempted him into turning against me, so I lost. I never trusted him anyways, but that’s how it happened. I told him betrayal’s not a good look for an angel, but he only told me he stopped being an angel a long time ago. Wow. I think he’ll have a good time ruling hell.”

“So you’ll go free?” Jongdae said, “You can retire? What was your big act that let you retire?”

“Losing to Lucifer,” Luhan said with a sigh, “How terrible.”

Lucifer, the first sinner. Lucille the destroyer. Luhan the loser. Jongdae couldn’t imagine how much that would bother him.

“People will remember that you tried,” Jongdae said, “Who else would be bold enough to try?”

“I’ll threaten a historian to make my end seem better than it was,” Luhan said before brightening, “But I get three last acts before I retire officially. Retirement’s for me. This one’s for you.”

Before Jongdae could realize what had happened, Luhan reached over, grabbed his collar, and began pulling it off. Heat surged from the collar, the iron melting and looking like molten lava. It burned both of them, but Luhan did not move his hand away, did not even think of letting go. He gritted his teeth and pulled and pulled until the collar popped free, red and burning in his hand. Jongdae gasped, fingers flying immediately to his neck.

Gone.

It was gone.

Jongdae stared, unwilling to believe. He couldn’t recognize the collar Luhan held in his hands. After so many days spent dreaming of this moment, it had passed so quickly he almost didn’t notice. In shock, he blinked up at Sehun, his lips slightly parted. Sehun expressed all the ecstatic relief Jongdae thought he would be feeling and kissed him. And now, as Sehun pressed kisses against his cheek, his forehead, anywhere he could reach, Jongdae finally laughed. He had been in pain for so long he had not realized how quiet freedom would feel like.

“Thank you, Luhan,” Jongdae grinned, “You—”

His smile faltered when he saw Joy still weeping, Sunmi burst into tears, and Yeri standing with her hands clasped and her head bowed. There were no smiles on their faces, and there was no way these could be happy tears. He turned to Luhan to ask why, but the soaring feeling was gone, and he felt as if he was free falling without Sehun to catch him, nothing but the ashy floor of hell to break his fall.

Luhan trembled as he held Jongdae’s collar, and though he sat straight, tall, and proud as a Lu should, he could not hide the shakiness of his hands, the quickening of his breath.

“Luhan,” Jongdae said, reaching out his hand, “give that to me. Let me throw it away.”

Luhan just jerked his head and took a deep breath.

“Luhan,” Jongdae called his name a little louder, crawling towards him, “Throw that down. What are you doing?”

Luhan finally met Jongdae’s gaze, and as he took a deep breath, he forced his shoulders to relax.

“I’ll remember your laughter forever, Jongdae,” Luhan said. He attempted to smile, but his lips drooped too quickly. “I’ll remember this moment in your existence forever. One day I’ll laugh like you laughed and feel like you felt when I’m free.”

“Luhan,” Jongdae said, gesticulating with his hand to signal that Luhan needed to hand over the collar right now, “You’re free right now. What are you talking about?”

“Lucifer and Jae aren’t punishing me the way they want because this is my punishment. I’m taking your collar, and it’s mine now. I’ll wear it in your place,” Luhan said, breathing in and out, in and out, preparing for what was to come.

Jongdae blinked, processed what Luhan had just said, and lunged at him with a scream, yelling that Luhan needed to give it back to him, give it back to—

But before Jongdae could reach him, Luhan raised the collar to his neck and slammed it on, gasping as the iron cooled and sealed itself on his skin. There was no time for Luhan to adjust to the pain, and a yell tore out of his mouth as he clawed as his throat. Jongdae caught him as he fell, and when he stared at Luhan through blurry vision, his shoulders began to shake.

“Save your tears, Jongdae,” Luhan screamed, thrashing about, “This is supposed to be a happy event. Where’s your smile? This is your freedom, so seize the moment.”

“You _fucking fool_ ,” Jongdae screamed with him, shaking his body, “Give it back to me…I’ll wear it again. Don’t do this, Luhan.”

“Too late,” Luhan said, his voice quieting. Perhaps he was growing accustomed to the pain, now that the shock was over.

“What happened to being selfish?” Jongdae said, gripping Luhan tighter and tighter, “What happened to being free? You’re off the throne now, so live, Luhan. Don’t _do_ this.”

“Your pain is my freedom,” Luhan laughed, “Funny how it works, right? I’m free because I’m taking your punishment and making it mine.”

Jongdae sat, frozen, and listened to the sobs around him. He could not. Do anything. Right now. Except. Freeze. In this moment, Sehun quickly knelt by Luhan and reached out to take his hand.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Luhan warned, “don’t take away my pain. That’s kind of you, but if I get used to it, it’ll hurt more when you’re gone.”

“But I wouldn’t leave,” Sehun said, his lower lip beginning to tremble. As he stretched out his hand further, Luhan swatted him away.

“You can’t do this,” Jongdae said, hugging Luhan against his body, as if the tighter he held onto him, the more he’d be able to take way Luhan’s pain as if he was an angel. “I won’t allow it.”

“Too late,” Luhan said, a small bubble of laughter bursting from his lips again, “Too late, too late, too late.”

Jongdae then let out a scream that sounded like the first he had let out not when the molten iron was poured on his neck, but the first time that the collar had pained him, the first time he and Luhan understood exactly what he would suffer for the next thousand years. But Jongdae’s time was done. Now it was Luhan’s.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Luhan said, the words sounding strangled, “I get only a thousand years of this instead of your eternity because I’m a Lu, and we’re privileged.”

Before Jongdae could respond, Luhan let out a choked gasp, as if the pain took him by surprise again, and that’s when Jongdae gave in to his shaking shoulders and cried, clutching Luhan in his arms and rocking back and forth.

“So you suffered this for me all this time,” Luhan said, balling his hands into Jongdae’s clothes, “I’m touched, Jongdae. But why couldn’t you be more selfish? Then none of this would’ve happened.”

“I’m _sorry,_ ” Jongdae cried out, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so _sorry_.”

“ _Please_ ,” Luhan said, finding the strength to speak, “There are no sorries in hell, Jongdae. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

Jongdae kept repeating those words and refused to believe.

“Jongdae,” Luhan sighed, sounding weaker than he had ever sounded, feeling frailer than he had ever seemed. Had he been pretending to be strong all this time? “At least I’m free, right? Even if I have this collar, I don’t have to look into that line and fail to know where it ends. I don’t have to stare at those souls and tell them their fate. I don’t have to be bound to a time that was mine but not mine at all. I can’t breathe, but I’m _free_ from what I hated the most. What does freedom feel like for you?”

“Freedom?” Jongdae said, struggling to talk between his tears. Luhan looked upwards at Jongdae and reached out a hand to gently wipe away his tears. For a brief moment, Jongdae remembered when he was first born out of the ashes how Luhan had greeted him with a brilliant smile, how he had smeared fire onto Jongdae’s back while chattering how he was excited to have him as a brother until the end of time. How lonely would it have been if he had woken up with no Luhan, nothing at all except the fire and the darkness? How lonely would eternity have been if Luhan hadn’t been by his side?

“Freedom,” Jongdae tried again, “It feels like I’ve climbed out of the abyss, only to realize I’ve left you behind. It’s gaining something I’ve always wanted, but realizing that I’m still missing so much, that I still want so much more. And it’s still dark, Luhan. It’s so fucking dark.”

“Hell’s always been dark,” Luhan said, “but you’re right. Enough is enough….It’s too fucking dim. So let there be light.”

He snapped his fingers once.

And there was light.

It was if someone had turned on a brilliant light and shone it throughout hell. Now there was no darkness, just light. No suffocating abyss, just light. It was a terrible sight to see, and they only realized how many dead souls they were surrounded by in this very second when the shadows they hid behind disappeared. Most of them wandered through the fields without even knowing where they were going. A few of them occasionally stared at them before wandering on.

“Oh, now I have to change the whole aesthetic,” Luhan asked, gazing up at the sky around him, “the color of the fires don’t match. And the moon? Oh there’s so much work to be done.”

He snapped his fingers, replacing the red light of the moon with gold. The fires receded now, leaving a blank white canvas behind. With another snap of his fingers, Luhan had thrown little golden stars to dance in the white sky.

“Remind you of anyone?” Luhan said. Jongdae stared at the tear that had trailed down Luhan’s cheek and wiped it before staring up.

Jongdae’s breath was lost in his throat when he stared at the moon that looked as if it was reflecting Sehun’s wings, the stars that looked like little bits of Sehun’s feathers had floated up into the sky.

“It’s beautiful, Luhan,” Jongdae said, “It’s beautiful.”

“I’ve hung up all the constellations of your tattoos in the sky,” Luhan said, “So I’ll have something to look at when I’m down here with nothing else to do. I’ll have you all with me even if you’re gone, even if you've left my side, too.”

“Why would we leave?” Jongdae said, noticing a constellation of a pair of wings next to a three before he looked back down at Luhan, “Where would we go?”

“Can someone else talk for once? Luhan said, turning behind him, “It’s taking enough effort to look like this doesn’t fucking hurt.”

The others rushed by their sides and began to talk.

“I’m going,” Sunmi said, the words spilling out from her mouth now, “going to Jorge. He’s terrible, but he only has me since we’re firebound. So it’s time I return to his side and keep him company…To make sure he doesn’t feel like he’s alone. It’s what I should have done so many years ago.”

“That’s brave,” Jongdae managed.

“You’ll have to look at all the tortured and hear their screams,” Joy said, “are you sure?”

“If he has for all these years, then I will, too,” Sunmi said.

“And you, Joy, remind me where you’re going,” Luhan said, twirling his hand.

“I’m leading my dead to purgatory,” Joy said, “Wherever that may be. We’ll start at the beginning of the line and keep walking until we’re free. It has to exist. We’ll find it. They deserve it.”

“Too kind,” Luhan said with a long sighs, “You’re too kind. They were always too lucky to have you.”

“You’re going with Jongdae, right?” Luhan turned to Yeri.

“Where am I going?” Jongdae asked, “I’m here to stay.”

“No, I’m staying,” Yeri said, furrowing her eyebrows as if she already expected Luhan to know this. “If everyone’s leaving, then who’s going to look after your stubborn self? I’ll get to see how Sehun lived all these years.”

Luhan’s face expression shifted and softened, and he smiled slightly.

“Hell is lonely. You can’t spend it alone. Your attention-seeking, dramatic self would die of the lack of attention before the collar gets any further chance to harm you. And there’s always a way out. I’ll get you out, Luhan. Just hold on,” Yeri said in a single breath. Luhan grinned at her accusations and bumped his fist agains her arm.

“I don’t understand,” Jongdae said, “Where do you want me to go? Why does everyone keep saying that I’m going?”

“Because you can’t stay,” Luhan said, turning his attention back to him, “You deserve better, and hell has given you nothing.”

“It’s given me all of you,” Jongdae said, “That’s more than what I could have ever hoped for.”

“Still,” Luhan said, “What have I taught you? What are we demons supposed to be? Selfish. So go. Find a place that’s neither heaven nor hell where you can live freely.”

“Where could that be?” Jongdae asked, “How am I supposed to find it when I don’t know if it even exists?”

“Then find it,” Luhan said, “And when my time is up, I’ll find you. We’ll all find you again. Build a new home for us somewhere far away from this place, Jongdae. Go with Sehun. Live for yourselves, and when you see my handsome self appear in the horizon, flying to you at last, welcome me with a fucking drink.”

“But I’ve been by your side all this time. How can I just leave you?” Jongdae said. There was never a time he could remember when they were apart. Even if they had been fighting, even if they had misunderstood each other for so long, it had always been like this. Jongdae and Luhan. Luhan and Jongdae. Brothers bonded by fire, bounded by heart. Who was he if he didn’t have Luhan with him? How could he exist if Luhan wasn’t here? If none of them were here with him?”

“It’s time for a change, Jongdae. Time for a new era,” Luhan said, “So go. We’ll see you again one day. We have all of eternity after all.”

Jongdae looked at Sehun and found his choice already made for him. If he could not leave Luhan, then he would leave hell for Sehun who deserved better than all of this. The time for better things was now. Sehun had waited long enough, and it would not be right to keep him a second longer here. Jongdae stared a moment more before telling Luhan he would go. Luhan sighed and beckoned for Sehun to come close.

“What’s up,” Luhan said. Sehun leaned in closer to listen because Luhan no longer had any energy or strength to raise his voice above a whisper.

“Luhan,” Sehun said, hands reaching out, but Luhan shook his head, so he kept back.

“Look after Jongdae,” Luhan said, “make sure he’s not alone. Time is lonely.”

He took a long, ragged breath, causing Sehun to press his lips together and his expression to crumple.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Luhan asked, “I tried to kill you. Twice.”

“But you didn’t,” Sehun said, “You didn’t have the heart to. Twice.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve grown fond of me,” Luhan said, closing his eyes as his lips curled up, “Ashy old me…I’m related to Lucifer.”

“I have,” Sehun insisted, “because I see what Jongdae sees in you.”

Luhan’s eyes fluttered open, and though the collar pained him, he seemed so. Content. This was what his freedom looked like after all.

“Then I can say the same,” Luhan said through gritted teeth, “I wasn’t going to say it if you were going to hit me with the _I hate you, Luhan_. But, I have in a strange way. You’re good for Jongdae, good to Jongdae, and you give him what he deserves.”

Luhan was about to say something more before he squeezed his eyes and let out a shaky exhale. 

“Can’t you use your final act to take away the pain?” Jongdae asked, feeling powerless as he could only comfort Luhan with his touch.

“I don’t think it works like that,” Luhan said, wincing, “And besides. I’ve already figured out what I want.”

“Then what’s your final act?” Jongdae asked, “Before you hand over the throne to Jae, what’s your final act?”

“Wine,” Luhan laughed, “Everlasting wine, the best wine, so I’ll never lack it when I’m out here.”

“Of course,” Jongdae smiled, watching as Luhan snapped his fingers and a bottle appeared next to him. It would never be empty.

“Now go,” Luhan said, watching Yeri pour out some wine for him, “I’ve wasted enough of your time.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jongdae said, “Every second, every minute, every year until you find me again.”

“Fight to win, Jongdae,” Luhan said, gripping Jongdae’s hand. With his last semblances of energy, he sat up and gripped his shoulders, staring at him intently until he relaxed and smiled. “Love to last.”

Jongdae didn’t trust himself to speak because the lump in his throat strangled him, so he only nodded and let Yeri gently pull Luhan out of his arms and let him lay on her lap. Luhan finally let his body go limp and closed his eyes. That must’ve been all the energy he had, as his expression twisted in pain now, and he balled his fists up. Jongdae recognized that familiar expression, and he was sorry there was nothing he could do to make the pain stop.

“Go,” Yeri said to Jongdae, looking straight at him.

Jongdae remembered the very first time he greeted her, the very first time she opened her eyes and smiled. Where had the time all gone?

“I’m the only one born under Luhan’s time,” Yeri said, “So I should stay with him until his thousand years pass. You go on first. I’m not ready to leave hell yet. I haven’t lived here long enough.”

She must’ve noticed the tears that pricked his eyes because she shook her head and placed her hands on Jongdae’s shoulders.

“Don’t,” Yeri said, “don’t even say it. Don’t even feel it. We are firebound, so we will find each other again.”

“You, too, Sehun,” she said, looking over Jongdae’s shoulder at Sehun, “I’ll bring Luhan because he’ll get lost without anyone to look after him, and we’ll find you.”

“Did I ever tell you that the day you awoke from the fire was one of the best days eternity offered me?” Jongdae asked. It hurt to speak, but it didn’t hurt to remember, so he kept going. “Did I ever tell you that every time you smile, you laugh, hell turns into something better, brighter?”

A smile stretched across her face.

“Then did I ever tell you that the day you greeted me, you welcomed me to hell, you gave me my tattoos…was one of the best days of my existence?” Yeri said before her shoulders slumped and she looked down, focused on Luhan instead. “I must’ve killed you during the times you needed me most. I’m sorry it took this long for everything to work out.”

Jongdae could feel the lump in his throat paining him even before he spoke.

“Hey,” he managed to say, “no sorries. Luhan will have a fit. Besides. We’re eternal, remember? We have time. There will be better and brighter moments ahead, alright?”

But they wouldn’t be now. Not anytime soon, no. The time for better days were ahead when they’d reunite. But not now. Yeri seemed to realize this as she laid Luhan down on the floor, earning a complaint from him, before rushing forwards to hug Jongdae. Jongdae held her tightly, the force of their hug almost sending them falling to the ashes. He didn’t want to let her go, but she slid out of his arms and returned to Luhan’s side.

“Go,” Yeri insisted with a smile, waving Jongdae off, “what are you waiting for now?”

He took a shaky breath to calm himself, to force the tears away. But it seemed the others were determined to make him go, even when he could not, and it was Sunmi who clasped Jongdae’s hand, pulled him up, and led him away. Jongdae looked behind him, capturing that final image of Luhan and Yeri by the fires, and continued staring until they were out of sight, lost in the dark.

“Where are we going now?” Sehun asked, letting Joy lead him through hell while Jongdae numbly trailed behind with Sunmi. He had not fully processed his separation from Luhan and Yeri anyways because they were still here. Still in hell. He could still turn back and return to them any time. But now was not the time to be selfish, and Jongdae remembered what future he needed to seize when he observed Sehun. Unlike Jongdae, he looked forwards. Unlike Jongdae, he was ready to go. So Jongdae would go and put one foot in front of the other for Sehun.

As they walked through hell, Jongdae let his gaze wander, acknowledging the dead as they trudged past him. Perhaps it would be the last time he would see these sinners. But Jongdae missed the field's silence immediately when they were soon greeted by the sounds of tortured screaming. Luhan may have extinguished the fires in the sky, but there was nothing but a field of fire in front of them, illuminating the worst people suffering the worst punishments.

“No,” Jongdae said, stopping in his tracks, “Sunmi, you can’t go here.”

He knew what they were here for, but that didn’t mean he approved.

“I want to,” Sunmi said, pressing her lips together, “If he’s here, then I have to.”

“I can’t keep doing this,” Jongdae said, resisting the urge to press his fingers to his ears to protect himself from these agonized shrieks, “I can’t keep saying good-bye.”

“We told you,” Sunmi said, reaching to take Jongdae’s hand, “It’s not good-bye. Not forever at least. We’ll find you when hell frees us, and when it’s time, we’ll say hello again. It’s so good to see you again.”

Jongdae hung his neck and looked down, preparing for the worst even though it had already happened. Sunmi bent down, tilting her head to met Jongdae’s gaze. She blinked up at him, rubies still dusted around her eyes. From here, she looked like the moon before Luhan painted it gold.

“Come on, Jongdae,” Sunmi said, poking his cheek, “Smile. I can’t leave like this if you’re sad.”

“I can’t,” Jongdae shook his head, “when you’re going here.”

He reluctantly looked up and observed the punishments across from them.

“These are the worst of the worst,” Jongdae said, “They don’t deserve to be in your presence.”

Beside them, Sehun had already turned around, scrunching up as his face as he cupped his hands over his head.

“Ah, well someone has to keep Jorge company,” Sunmi said, “He’s been alone all this time, and I’ve never visited even if I’m firebound to him. I greeted him when he awoke from the fire, so I should’ve stayed with him, gone to him sooner.”

With that, she kissed everyone’s cheeks and quickly left before she could change her mind. She kept her chin up as she walked into the ugliest parts of hell, the skirt of her dress billowing behind her. Tortured souls reached out to her, asking, begging for mercy, but she couldn’t care less about them. They were all here because they chose, and because they chose, no mercy would be shown. Jongdae watched her continue onwards until she reached someone sitting on a chair with his back turned to them. Whoever sat there surveyed the long line of souls awaiting punishment. Jongdae wondered if this judgment was any easier. Luhan had already sent the worst of the worst here, so what was there to do except deal them the retribution they deserved?

Sunmi looked back to smile and wave before she turned her back on them and tapped the demon’s shoulder.

“Hello,” she shouted to make herself heard through all the screams, “I’m home. Can I stay? I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

The demon didn’t even turn his head to look at Sunmi, but she kept talking, undeterred. She reached out slowly, hovering her hand as if to touch the demon before changing her mind and simply placing her hand on the empty space on the armrest instead.

“I can’t wait to tell you about everything’s that happened,” Sunmi said, “Did you know that we met an angel? His name is Sehun, and he’s very beautiful, very sweet. Lucifer kept him locked away for ever, but Jongdae freed him.”

As she continued talking, the demon shifted his hand and placed it on top of hers. Eternity wasn’t meant to be spent alone.

“Let’s go,” Joy said, already turning around, “I can’t bear to be here anymore. Not around all this screaming, these terrible humans.”

She looped her arms through Jongdae’s and Sehun’s arms and guided them away. She must have not wanted to stay here much longer because within seconds, they were back in the fields. There, she called out to her dead with a loud voice, and instantly, a few souls appeared, crowding around them. She called them each by name, making sure they were all there, waiting for those who weren’t.

“I’m here to take you to where you want to go,” Joy announced after counting all her souls, clasping her hands together, “I’m not sure how to get there, but the only thing we can do is try, right?”

The dead looked at each other and murmured among themselves. Jongdae couldn’t understand them.

“Come on,” Joy said, already beginning to walk to the line, “Follow me.”

“We’re heading the same way,” Jongdae said, trailing after her, “So please don’t let us go. Let us stay with you. We’ll walk and all end up in the same place together.”

Joy inclined her head towards him, too busy to guide her souls forwards to give him a verbal answer. Jongdae took that as a yes, and he and Sehun walked beside her, prepared for at least a few years of this. If they were lucky. Every now and then, they stopped for Joy, who told the first dead in line to wait as she made sure all of them had followed. Every few minutes, she stopped to wait for the stragglers, to tell the slow ones to hurry. But if they wanted to lag behind or wait, then she’d wait. Jongdae and Sehun didn’t mind waiting, but after a while, Joy let out a sigh the next time they stopped.

“Oh my dears,” Joy said, turning around as if she just noticed them again, “Don’t wait for me. It’ll take ages since my dead like to straggle.”

“We don’t mind waiting,” Sehun said.

“We’ll go all together,” Jongdae insisted.

“Just go,” Joy insisted, shooing them forwards with a wave of a hand, “I’ll find you later.”

“But later can be thousands of yours from now,” Jongdae said.

“Or it’ll be a day,” Joy smiled, “We can’t die, not forever, so we’ll meet again.”

Before Jongdae had to the chance to say anything more, Joy turned around, murmuring something to the nearest dead souls before she strode forwards and pressed a kiss to Sehun’s cheek.

“Take good care of Jongdae, okay?” she said, waiting for Sehun’s promise, waiting for Sehun’s _yes, of course_. Sehun pulled her into a tight hug and wished her and her dead well, and made her promise to come back as quickly as she could. Joy laughed out her own _yes, of course_ before turning to Jongdae.

“I don’t have to tell you to take care of Sehun because I know you will, so I’m asking you to take good care of yourself,” Joy said, grasping Jongdae’s cheeks with her hands, “You’ve been through so much. Please only have good days ahead.”

“My days with you _were_ good,” Jongdae said. He had to remind himself that this wasn’t good-bye. He didn’t have to say good-bye if this separation was temporary, but it still hurt to leave. He felt like she was already gone even if they were still here, still together. For now.

“No they weren’t,” Joy laughed, “Don’t lie, Jongdae. Not all of them were.”

“More than enough were,” Jongdae said.

“Wait for us all, and we’ll have better days ahead together,” Joy said, “Okay?”

She kissed Jongdae’s cheeks, hugged him, and stepped back to take one good look at them not because this would be the last time, but because they didn’t know when the next time would come. Maybe it’d be a year from now, a thousand years from now. But until they’d meet again, this last moment would be all they had.

When she was content with whatever memory she had saved, she waved them forwards, waiting for them to leave.

“Go!” she called out, “Go live!”

Jongdae memorized the way the only thing more dazzling than the jewels hanging from her neck was her smile, how her cheeks were flushed and her eyes slightly watery. With that, he finally turned away and turned to Sehun with a big sigh.

“Ready?” he asked, refusing to look back.

“Ready,” Sehun said. Jongdae could hear the excitement in his voice, the light shining out of his words, and used that brightness to guide him forwards. He took Sehun’s hand, and so they ran. Forwards.

Jongdae was surprised that he had made it this far without crying. But now, the realization that he would not see the rest of his family for so long struck him, and finally, he cried, blinking blurry stars out of his eyes as he ran, his chest heaving from the physical exertion and the physical loss and separation. It would hurt more to remember, so he tried to keep their destination in mind. Somewhere neither heaven nor hell. Somewhere the both of them could exist freely. Somewhere that they could belong in for as long as time allowed. Somewhere maybe where eternity didn’t exist so things could be better. More fragile, but better. Brighter.

The two of them said nothing and ran, keeping that place in mind. They must have thought hard, pictured that place where neither actually knew with all of their strength, or their desperate pleas must have finally been heard, as soon, sooner than Jongdae expected, a white light suddenly sparked and glowed in the distance. Jongdae squinted, stopping for a second as he stared. He paused, gave himself a moment to rest as he stared at the light. Sehun couldn’t stay still and bounced on his toes, flapping his wings occasionally, restless to go.

Jongdae hadn’t been thinking of heaven, so this light could not possibly be from there. This white light didn’t smother them like hell’s white either. Jongdae took a step forwards and exchanged a glance with Sehun. They didn’t have to say anything, the silence, their looks speaking enough.

Sehun stretched out his hand, inclining his head forwards. Time to go. Jongdae took it, and this time, they paused for three seconds before sprinting forwards. As they approached, the light grew larger and larger, engulfing the area around them until there was less hell and more light, less death, more white.

Jongdae squeezed his eyes shut as they jumped into the light. The second between jumping and landing seemed too long, and for that second, Jongdae felt like he was flying before they tumbled and fell onto the ground. Jongdae’s first priority was Sehun, so to Sehun he went, pulling himself up to check him for any possible injuries. After Sehun reassured him he was fine, he scrambled to his feet and helped Jongdae stand. The two of them said nothing but dared to hope that this was the place. But when they looked around them, they saw nothing and recognized nothing for the first few moments.

“Is this purgatory?” Jongdae finally spoke, “It’s so…white.”

There was no ash on the floor. Just white. No fires in the sky. Just white. Nothing at all, just a soft white blanketing every surface.

“But hell was white when we left it,” Sehun said, staring up at the sky.

“Did hell finally freeze?” Jongdae shivered. Something fell from the sky softly, almost like ash, but was colder, softer. “Hell’s never been this cold.”

“I…I don’t know,” Sehun said, placing an arm around Jongdae’s shoulders to keep him warm, “This can’t be heaven. The dead don’t look like this. Look.”

Jongdae followed where Sehun had pointed and noticed what seemed like humans. They didn’t have the paleness, the hollowness of the dead that they saw in hell. These humans had rosy red cheeks, pink from the cold. Some laughed as they passed by a building with glass windows with bright lights and pine trees with bright baubles and tinsel inside. Others loved as they walked hand in hand, stealing kisses every now and then.

“There’s a sun,” Sehun said as he tilted his chin upwards to check, squinting as he shielded his eyes with a hand, “But there are no moon or stars. Maybe we really did make it to purgatory.”

They tentatively walked forwards, blinking to adjust to the light. Jongdae couldn’t look at this sun directly and wondered who had hung such an ugly star in the sky. Soon, they passed by tall trees with colorful orbs and lights hanging from its branches. Perhaps this was a poor imitation of Luhan’s grove of shining trees. The smell of mint and cinnamon wafted through the air, nothing like the nightshade that hung in hell’s kitchen.

Both of them stopped in their tracks as they saw a long line of people across the street. Jongdae did not want to give up hope, but he could not help but feel unsettled by that line that seemed to stretch out further than they could see. Humans and their little babies and small children gathered, standing in line. But none had any frowns on their faces, no groans of despair. They patiently waited, moving up every now and then.

“A line? Again?” Jongdae said, briskly striding forwards. Sehun followed behind, whispering if this was really it? Had they really failed?

At the front of the line, Jongdae found a man sitting on a throne wearing a red velvet suit with white fur cuffs and gasped.

“Is he a Lu?” Jongdae asked, checking to make sure his daggers were still concealed on him, “He doesn’t have the wings, but doesn’t he remind you with _that_ fashion sense? The throne? The dramatics?”

“He seems…nice?” Sehun offered.

Jongdae stared at the throne, not knowing what type of a Lu would place two giant red and white striped canes beside them, not knowing what type of a Lu would prefer to hide their wings rather than flaunt them, what type of a—

“Hello!” two beings suddenly popped up into their view. They were lucky Jongdae was so confused he didn’t immediately pull out his dagger and stab them on instinct. These beings each wore green tights, puffy red jackets, and a red, drooping hat with a bell on the end of it. One of them with yellow braids spoke, and Jongdae placed his hand immediately on the hilt of his dagger.    

“I’m Cindy Lou Who,” she said with a grin, “and if—”

“You…you’re a Lu? Lu Who?” Jongdae said, “Do you know Luhan?”

He would act depending on how she would respond. If he killed Lucifer before, then he could kill any Lu, this one included.

The one in braids looked around before leaning in and whispering.

“I’m…just acting as Cindy Lou Who, and—” the one with braids said.

“Yes,” Jongdae impatiently said, craning his neck to see if she was hiding her wings. “But which Lu? Lu Who?”

This Lu furrowed her eyebrows before readjusting the smile on her face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but if you’re here to take a picture, then you must go to the end of the line,” she said, pointing behind them. Jongdae turned around to look, reminded of how interminable and unending it seemed.

“We’re just watching,” Jongdae sighed, “We don’t need to be judged.”

“Okay!” they grinned before skipping back to the area, their jackets billowing from the wind. A Lu would never. Luhan would rather die than be seen in such hideous clothing.

Jongdae watched the false Lus beckon towards the next child in line. The child slowly walked forwards, encouraged by her parents, before approaching the throne and climbing onto the red being’s lap.

“Have you been a good child?” the being asked, wagging a finger at the child who nodded eagerly.

“And what do you want?” he asked, “a fire truck? A doll?”

The child whispered her request in his ear before posing for a photo.

“Naughty!” the being announced, causing the girl to burst into tears. He stared at her before laughing. “I’m only kidding! Nice!”

“He’s a demon,” Jongdae said to Sehun, unaware of how loud he was until some humans turned to look at him with odd glances.

“He made her cry,” Sehun frowned, “How cruel.” The girl’s father picked her up in his arms and shushed her. Sehun smiled and waved, making faces at her until she laughed again.

“That’s very sweet of you,” the girl’s mother smiled as she followed her daughter’s gaze to find Sehun, “You’re such an angel.”

“Yes he is,” Jongdae said. Sehun waved at the girl as she left before continuing to watch the demon sort the line again.

“Nice!”

“Nice!”

“Naughty?”

“Nice!”

“Nice!”

“We’re in hell,” Jongdae said, “There’s no other explanation. A man in red with fire around him judging souls? We’re in hell.”

He did not feel disappointed yet, did not give himself the time to consider that they had failed.

“But he’s not judging the adults,” Sehun said, “is this hell for children?”

Jongdae took a second glance and tried to see if any of the death, the loneliness in hell was present here. Then he realized, as he observed the people waiting, he couldn’t.

“If this is hell, then why do so many of them look happy?” Jongdae asked. “Where’s Luhan? Where are the others? If this is hell…then they should be here.”

Maybe this was an inverted version of hell. An alternate hell. One where Lus didn’t have wings and people smiled in line.

“Let’s find them then,” Sehun said, “do you think the demon in red will know?”

“We can ask,” Jongdae shrugged. He waited his turn, making sure the next child had climbed off the demon’s lap and ran to her parents before he approached.

“Do you know Luhan?” Jongdae asked, “Do you know any Lus? Are you a Lu?”

The demon looked at Jongdae and let out a hearty laugh.

“Ho, ho, ho! I don’t know what you mean, but if you want a picture, please go to the end of the line,” he said, grabbing his large belly as he chortled.

“Why would we want a picture?” Jongdae asked, “I just want to know where Luhan is. This is hell, right?”

Before the red demon could even respond, the two beings dressed in green and red from earlier grabbed Jongdae’s arms and roughly escorted him out.

“You can’t skip the line,” they said as they pushed him out of the entrance to the throne and pointed all the way back, “go to the end, and then it’ll be your turn.”

“The end?” Jongdae asked, peering in the distance, unable to find the end, “but the line never ends.”

“It does,” they said, continuing to jab in the distance. Jongdae scowled and began walking towards the end of the line.

As Sehun and he walked, they fell into a silence, at lost for what to do. They didn’t know where else to go, so they might as well see for themselves if this line really was finite. The souls waiting didn’t look lost, didn’t look in anguish, Jongdae realized. Many of them smiled, leaning into each other for comfort, and a few began singing some tunes about reindeers and snowmen that Jongdae didn’t recognize. And soon, sooner than Jongdae expected, they reached the end of the line.

Jongdae wildly looked around, making sure that his eyes hadn’t played tricks on him. Two new people momentarily joined the line, but then no ne else.

The end.

For now.

“I don’t know where we are,” Jongdae said to Sehun, “What is this? A line with end?”

The line shortened a second later, causing the people at the back to take several steps forwards. Hell’s line never moved this quickly.

“What do we do now?” Sehun asked, “Where do we go?”

“I don’t know,” Jongdae admitted, reaching out to hold Sehun’s hand. He could not lose him here. Not again. “Maybe if we walk around, we’ll see something we recognize.”

But they didn’t. The passed by unfamiliar buildings, walked on ground coated with that blanket of white that crunched under their feet, and unfamiliar smiling faces. Nothing looked familiar.

“If this is hell,” Sehun finally said, huddling towards Jongdae as he shivered. Jongdae placed an arm around Sehun’s shoulder to warm him up, “then it’s frozen. Maybe this is the end of time.”

They continued walking until less people appeared and until they saw what looked like metal vehicles rushing past them. Jongdae couldn’t exactly remember how they reached this place, but a few moments later, they found themselves on top of a bridge.

“Hell or not, purgatory or not,” Jongdae said as they looked downwards, finding the people looking like little dots, the building looking like blocks, “Do you want to stay here? It looks…pleasant. Better than hell at least.”

“I will be fine anywhere with you,” Sehun as he looked down, swinging their clasped hands around, “but yes. I think I’ll like it here.”

“Enough to feel like you belong?” Jongdae asked.

“Oh, I already know where I belong,” Sehun smiled.

Jongdae wondered if Sehun could see the hearts shooting from his eyes, the fondness in his expression, and hear the way his pulse danced in his chest. He could feel his heart ready to burst, and with a sigh, he reached forwards, tip-toing up to hold Sehun’s cheeks between his hands and kissed him. As he closed his eyes and felt how soft Sehun’s lips felt, how wonderfully warm he felt now, this second felt like a thousand years. Jongdae was ready for the next thousand with Sehun even if they'd feel like a second.

Sehun had slipped his hands around Jongdae’s waist to hold him close as they broke apart to breathe. They didn’t need to say it as they stood, gazing at each other in silence with such fond expressions. But they knew. They didn’t care if this was heaven or not, hell or not, purgatory or not because this moment they marked with another kiss promised the beginning of something brighter, something better, something more beautiful than what hell or heaven could have possibly offered them.

“I don’t know if time will end,” Jongdae said, “no one knows. But I will spend all my days with you because we’re together forever, until the end of time.”

“I have your heart, and you have mine,” Sehun smiled.

With their hands clasped together and their hearts full, they walked forwards into the white without noticing the sign and its message that hung straight above them, surrounded by twinkling lights.

 

 

WELCOME TO SEOUL

 

 

 


End file.
